A Rush of Blood to the Head
by Bleu
Summary: [Do you think it would have been different? If you'd had kids?] Hmm... An obviously unrealistic what if I couldn't help but write about. Enjoy!
1. The Crumbling Walls

"**A Rush of Blood to the Head"**

**by Bleu**

**Chapter One**

She knew she was in trouble.

As soon as she slowed down from her frantic dash to avoid being tagged "it" by the despicable Tucker Doyle who never left her alone at recess, she took a deep breath, only to shudder as a tremendous squeeze in her chest cut off her inhale. She tried again moments later to take another breath, but the invisible vice around her heart held her insides in a strangling grasp. Her mouth fell open a bit as her eyes widened in surprise.

"Sadie?" Tucker asked, his smile from a victorious tag fading as his victim stared glassily at him. "Sadie?" he demanded with more urgency when her wide blue eyes clouded over.

"I-I-I…" her vision was fading to black around the edges, making Tucker's concerned face blur into a distorted Halloween mask. His uncharacteristic worry validated what she already knew.

She was in trouble.

"Sadie? Do you want me to get the nurse?"

"No…" and right before she lost consciousness and hit her head on the hard asphalt of the school's playground, she managed, "I want my Mommy."

* * *

"What do we have?"

"Eight-year-old female; fell on playground at school and lost consciousness. They couldn't revive her, and the blood concerned the principal, so they sent her here."

"What are her vitals?"

"Heart is racing, pupils are dilated, B.P. is low. She's bleeding pretty heavily, but I think the wound is mostly superficial…"

"Wait a minute…"

"What is it?"

"This…this is Addison Shepherd's daughter! Her name is Sadie!"

"Carol, page Addison Shepherd. And then after you get a hold of her, try to call Derek Shepherd, too. If you can find him, that is."

* * *

"Ten blade." Addison Shepherd commanded neutrally, extending a bloodied, gloved hand. Jamie Powell, her best intern, handed it over obediently.

"Do you think he's going to make it?" he asked, peering over her right arm at the painfully tiny infant she was operating on. His voice was saturated with worry, and Addison acknowledged in the back of her mind his attachment to this case. It was important to be involved, but Jamie had a tendency to get over-involved, and too attached. Unfortunately, she knew a remedy for that, thanks to Dr. Richard Webber.

"Well the infected tissue I removed is extensive, and these stitches are still just a little too big for him, but he should be okay as long as that woman is kept away from him. When I'm done, which will be shortly, we'll move him to a secured NICU." She smiled under her mask at him reassuringly. He nodded, relieved.

"Dr. Montgomery-Shepherd?" a voice asked from her peripheral.

"Yes, Ms. Watts?" she responded, identifying one of the head nurses without looking away from the baby.

"There's…you're needed in the emergency room and you weren't answering your page." The normally composed, professional woman informed her.

Addison creased her brow. "I have a three-month-old baby with a bacterial infection on the table. What did you expect me to do?"

"It's…it's an emergency." Carol Watts returned.

"That would be why it was in the emergency room, wouldn't it?" Addison looked up now, as she waited for Jamie to hand her the stitches, with annoyance in her eyes as they glared at the woman over the white surgical mask. She normally would have been less abrasive, but her evening had been…difficult.

"Well, yes, but…"

"Is it something my intern, Dr. Powell, could handle?" she interrupted once she went back to stitching up the wounds.

"Well, under normal circumstances yes."

"Then why do you need me?"

"It's your daughter."

She paused mid-loop.

"What?"

"She…she's in the emergency room with head trauma."

_Sadie? No... _She took three breaths before turning her attention, composed she hoped, to Jamie.

"Dr. Powell?"

"I'll take it from here, Dr. Shepherd."

She watched him finish the first few stitches, then she bolted from the room, ripping off her scrubs in the meanwhile.

"Ms. Watts, get me a telephone."

* * *

Holly Carlisle was having a bad day. She'd been vomited on twice, and a case of bowel blockage had just resolved itself—on her scrubs and in her blonde hair. She was trying to collect herself—post shower—behind the nursing station with a candy bar and a magazine when the most attractive man she ever had the pleasure of laying her eyes upon breezed up to her station.

"Hello, I'm Derek Shepherd, I'm looking for Addison Shepherd…" he said hurriedly, the words so quickly forthcoming from his lips they seemed to collide and fall upon each other.

She took a minute to examine his just-so tousled black hair, probing blue eyes, straight perfectly-shaven jaw-line, and realized she envied Addison Shepherd more than just her fantastic wardrobe, eternally long legs, and gorgeous hair.

This man seemed in quite a hurry to be in her company.

"She's right down the hall in Peeds. Room 305." Holly resigned herself, watching his face shift in anxiety.

"Thank you." And he was gone.

_It's not true what they say. Red heads _definitely _have more fun._

As Derek nearly sprinted down the corridor, he nearly crashed right into Addison as she exited the bathroom. She had been crying.

"Derek!" she exclaimed, wrapping her shaking arms around him instinctively.

"Addie! What's going on? Where is she?" he asked, returning the embrace and taking a moment to breathe in her smell. Even after hours of surgery, she still held that same sugary whisper as when she would come out of the shower, steam rising from her skin…but he couldn't think about Addison and her scent right now. _Or at all._

"She fell on the playground. She told me she tripped and fell. They couldn't bring her around at first. She has a nasty gash, and they did an MRI but couldn't find a hematoma." Addison explained, her voice shaking but her resolve to stay calm winning out.

"If she fell hard enough to lose consciousness, she has to have one somewhere." He told her, a question in his voice, as they moved toward Sadie's room.

"I know, Derek, but I saw the scans myself. There isn't one." Addison emphasized, her voice edgy.

"All right, all right. Addie, that's a good sign, what's wrong?" he asked, wondering what she wasn't tell him.

"I was _scared_ Derek! They came into a surgery and told me she was in the emergency room with head trauma!"

"That wasn't a very good idea. I'm sorry, Addie." He said quietly, looking at her with soft, unspoken consolation in his eyes. She looked back at him for a brief moment, and then glanced away from his beautifully comforting eyes.

"I'm okay, I'm just…glad you're here."

"Me too." He agreed under his breath. He wouldn't push the matter. He wouldn't mention what had been said the night and morning prior.

Addison pushed open the door to the room just then, and his eyes met his daughter's. "Hey, baby."

"Hi, Daddy." Sadie smiled her crooked little half smile that made Derek melt. He gently wrapped an arm around her and kissed the uninjured part of her forehead. She looked up at him with Addison's wide, intelligent blue eyes from under a curtain of impossibly silky, slightly wavy black hair he knew could have come right out of his head. She nuzzled slightly under his arm, and a warmth rose in him, coupled with a chilly worry.

"What's going on here, Evil Kenevil?" he asked lightly, though tightening his embrace.

"Aw, Daddy, I only fell. I didn't jump the Grand Canyon." Sadie joked, smiling, even though her head was pounding. Her father _and _mother were in the same room in the middle of the day with her. Despite the circumstance, she still found herself smiling.

"Not yet, anyway." Addison quipped, sitting next to her daughter and brushing her hair delicately from her face. Sadie grinned slyly at her mother in response, another damnable trait courtesy of Derek. Usually it earned a scowl or even a playful slap on the arm when it came from Derek, but Sadie only got a pursed-lipped smile.

"Hi, Dr. Shepherd, I'm Dr. James Ianello." The young man who had been examining a chart at the desk nearby finally said, extending a well-manicured hand in obvious reverence. "Big fan, if you don't mind me saying and it doesn't sound too much like a groupie."

"Hello, Dr. Ianello. Thank you." He returned sincerely. "But uh, what's the story with my daughter?"

"Well, Sadie told me she was playing tag, ran, tripped, and fell. She fell forward, and hit her forehead, directly on the left temporal lobe. She lost consciousness for a half hour, according to her principal and the attending in the emergency room. Fortunately, somehow when she came to, her memory was intact, her speech and vision were clear. We also found no hematoma anywhere in her brain. Just a mild concussion." Ianello explained, but it seemed when he stopped, he had done so mid-speech.

"From what you're telling me, that sounds great. But your tone is suggesting otherwise."

"Well, when Sadie came in, her heart rate was at 180 beats per minute." Addison added, taking Sadie's hand.

"Okay…suggesting?" Derek asked Ianello.

"We ran some tests, and her oxygen level in her blood is low, and the on-call nurse noticed a bluish tint around her nails and fingers when she first arrived."

"He asked me if she had been diagnosed as a baby with any heart-related illness." Addison told Derek, still holding Sadie's hand as the little girl sat staring at the floor, suddenly sullen.

"But she wasn't. So what…what do you think is wrong?" Derek asked, more agitated.

"I'm not entirely sure, but if I could ask Sadie some questions?"

"Of course."

Ianello nodded, and took a seat on the stool in front of the bed. He wheeled over, eye-level with Sadie, and casually took her pulse using the hand not being held by Addison.

"Sadie, do you ever feel tired when you're playing? Sooner than your friends?" he asked, equally as casual as his touch.

Her eyes were softened when she murmured, "Sometimes…yeah."

"How about pains, like in your chest…right here?" Ianello asked, indicating her heart area.

Even more hesitantly, Sadie replied, "…Yes."

"Do you ever get blurry sight? Ever have trouble seeing right after you're done playing?"

"Yes." She responded quickly, looking miserably between the increasingly concerned expressions of her bewildered parents.

"Honey, what's the matter?" Addison asked when a few tears fell from Sadie's eyes. Sadie only shook her head, and Ianello leaned back, folding his arms.

"Sadie…did you really trip today? Or did something make you fall?"

It was Derek's turn to crease his brow. He looked at Sadie's guilty expression, then ran over the facts in his head. Then he looked to Addison, who obviously made the same calculation. But Sadie spoke before either of them did.

"Something…something made me fall."

"Why didn't you tell the nurse?" Derek demanded, his expression slack with worry.

"I didn't want to…I don't know…" Sadie whimpered, taking her hands and scrubbing roughly at her tearing eyes.

"Has it ever happened before, honey?" Addison asked quietly, taking her daughter's hands down and dabbing them lightly with tissues.

"…Yes."

"Sadie! Why didn't you ever tell us, baby?" Derek crouched down next to the bed, his voice tight with distress.

"I don't know…I thought it would go away. I didn't want you to worry." Sadie replied sadly. "You both have other patients who would die without you. I didn't think I would die…"

"Oh, honey…" Addison collected her daughter in a hug, stroking her hair.

"What does this mean, Dr. Ianello?" Derek asked as he rubbed his temples.

"I certainly would hate to speculate before conclusive testing."

Both Derek and Addison knew what that meant. Their daughter was in trouble.

* * *

"Derek?"

Addison's voice slid through the darkness tentatively. It didn't startle him—he was wide-awake. He had been for hours, and anticipated being so for the next few, as well.

"I'm awake. What is it?" he replied softly, not wanting to awaken the finally sleeping Sadie in the bed across the room.

"…I'm afraid." She replied into the blackness of the room. He moved his head to look at her striking silhouette against the light from the city outside that refused to be blotted out. Her hair was knotted loosely at her neck, and she was tugging at it nervously. He couldn't see her eyes, but he was sure they were still puffy and red, and looking right at him.

"So am I, so am I." he agreed, feeling her worry.

"When they told me she was in the ER…I didn't think I could ever be that frightened. But then…when Ianello…they want to do heart surgery, for Christ's sake. On Sadie." She shifted, and he watched her pull the blanket around her tighter. "I keep thinking how hard I've worked all these years to be good at what I do. I'm not immodest to say I'm one of the best neonatal specialists around. I worked hard for that, and now…"

"It doesn't make a difference, because you can't help her." He finished for her, his distress obvious. "I know, Addie, because I've been thinking the same thing all night."

This silenced her for a moment. Never in either of their lives had either of them felt so helpless.

Addison watched her husband suffer this new emotion, his beautiful face clamped with anguish.

"What are we going to do?" she murmured finally.

"Ebstein's Anomaly is treatable, we have to remember. And we're going to get the best heart surgeon out there to treat Sadie."

"Where?"

* * *

"Hello?" a sharp greeting, indicative that the individual delivering it had better things to do than answer a personal phone call.

"Hi, Richard, it's Derek." Derek responded, his head jerking up from it's lolling position, a result of waiting nearly a half-hour to speak to this man.

"Derek Shepherd? Well, I haven't heard voice in a long time! How have you been?" Richard Webber relaxed visibly. Any other call, he would still be wrapped tightly in tension, but Derek Shepherd had one of his favorite interns. Next to, of course, Addison.

"I've been pretty good, how have you been? How's Adele?"

"I've been good. You know how it is. And Adele's great…she's always great." He paused, not wanting to delve into the various aspects of his complex marriage right now. Instead, he changed the subject. "How's Addie?"

"She's…great too." Derek replied, pausing for the same reason Richard had. He and Addison hadn't spoken about the other night since Sadie had been diagnosed, so it had been easy to forget.

"What about your little girl, Sadie? She must be what—eight now?"

Derek's eyes drifted to the hospital room. Through the window, he saw Sadie curled in bed on her side, her hair a dark tangled cloud around her head as a result of restless sleep, and Addison, sitting next to the bed but with her head resting on her arms, which were wedged right next to Sadie.

"Yeah, she's…she's only eight." He told Richard softly, with a pang in his heart. "Really tall, really smart, sometimes _too smart_—a spitting image of Addie."

"She always was, even when I saw her last, and she was just a little thing then." Richard thought fondly of the little Shepherd but noted Derek's apprehension, and asked, "So as much as I enjoy the reminiscing, to what do I owe this pleasure, Derek?"

"Actually…it's about Sadie."

"Really? What's the matter?"

"She was diagnosed yesterday with Ebstein's Anomaly. It's severe—they're talking tricuspid repair surgery." He had started out calmly, clearly, but by the end of the sentence, his voice had choked up and was barely his own.

"Oh no." Richard closed his eyes slowly, and shook his head. "Derek, I'm so sorry."

"Thanks, Richard." Derek cleared his throat. "The reason I'm calling is I know Preston Burke is in Seattle working for you, and I know he's the best cardio-thoracic surgeon out there right now. I also know getting to him for a consult and surgery is damned near impossible. I was hoping there was something you could do to help."

"Of course, Derek, I'd be more than happy to."

"Thank you, Richard, thank you so much. You don't…I'll find a way to repay this favor."

"That's unnecessary, Derek. This is your and Addison's little girl!"

"Still…thank you, so much." He couldn't take his eyes off of the sleeping form of his daughter.

"All right, I'll let you know as soon as possible. How…how are you handling all of this?"

"Right now," Derek replied, thinking of his only daughter, but also of his equally fragile relationship with his wife. "I'm dealing with the medical aspects, aspects I'm familiar with, so I'm all right."

"What about the non-medical aspects?" Richard asked in the voice of a friend.

"Just let me know as soon as you can, please, when Dr. Burke can see her."

* * *

**A/N: So this chapter was a little boring, and long…I know. But it's going somewhere, hopefully somewhere _good_, so stick with me! Support, ideas, criticism, and general observations are appreciated hugely. Thanks!**

** And in case this wasn't clear- I'm writing a scenario in which Derek and Addison had a child earlier in their marriage, pre-Mark/Seattle, and they still live in New York. The interns we know and love, who I promise will be soon involved, are in Seattle and all is normal there, sans the Drs. McDreamy. Okay...so that's it. More to come!  
**


	2. The Mistakes That I Have Made

**Chapter Two**

"He's petty." Cristina Yang snapped angrily as she dropped her entire body weight onto the gurney next to Meredith Grey. The force and violence of the impact popped Meredith's iPod ear buds from her ears, interrupting The Flaming Lips' "Do You Realize?" and her thoughtless, daydreaming reverie of dark-haired, blue-eyed Irishmen. Meredith opened her eyes, switched the device off, and resigned to her few moments of peace being over.

"Who is?"

"Burke." Cristina practically spat his name. Meredith sat up next to Cristina, mirroring her position with her back to the whitewashed wall of the infamous Intern's basement corridor retreat.

Since she had laid down, it had become illuminated with bright morning sunlight, but still held a secretive, secluded quality that made it the perfect haven for over-worked, over-wrought interns. The only thing they had to worry about bothering them there, were other interns.

"Why?" She asked, rubbing her eyes and stifling a yawn.

"He isn't letting me in on a consult with the Chief that he was up so early for today because I never told him my parents came into town last weekend." Cristina took to aggressively gnawing on a hangnail.

Meredith shrugged. "Well, this is the kind of thing you open yourself up for when you date a doctor. Normal boyfriends would just withhold sex. And, he _is _your boss. I told you it was a bad idea to date an attending."

"Seriously? Judgment from the woman who, within her first week, screwed a fellow intern and contracted syphilis?" Cristina pointed out, earning an elbow from Meredith.

"Seriously! That was a million years ago! And below the belt, where your silent pager sits, until you learn how to be a better girlfriend!" She returned. Their exchange could have been interpreted as hostile, but their friendship was a unique one—and by unique, it was an entirely honest friendship, free of the sweet little lies and avoidances of most.

They lapsed into commiserating silence, but almost immediately this was interrupted by a surly voice saying, "Oh, cat fight. Can I watch?"

"Deviant." Meredith replied with a sneer at the sight of Alex Karev, a one-night-stand she had indulged in the night before her first day of her internship, only to later find him to be her colleague and, to her horror, a carrier of syphilis. But, in retrospect, the brush with Alex had cured—for the most part—her of her admittedly promiscuous ways from college, so in a small way, she was almost thankful for it. In a very, _very_, small way.

"Don't you have some Hell minions waiting for commands somewhere?" Cristina asked snidely.

"Nope…I heard about some big-time consult Burke's having with the Chief, so I freed myself up _just in case_." He replied easily, chopping viciously into an apple as he threw himself up into a supine position on a neighboring gurney.

"No way, Evil Spawn. I'm in on that consult." Cristina leaned forward, almost as if to pounce on him for even suggesting otherwise.

"From what I heard of your engaging bitching just moments ago, Burke 86ed you from it." Alex replied casually, examining his half-eaten apple with sarcastic interest.

"But to actually choose you over me? Doubt it." Cristina snapped, though she sat back with a pout, knowing he was probably right.

"What are we doubting?" George O'Malley inquired as he struggled to balance three mochas on a flimsy cardboard carrier while he made his way towards them.

"Alex's humanity." Meredith replied, taking the mocha with the "M" scrawled in black sharpie on the side.

"There's still doubt?" George asked in all seriousness, handing the other mocha over to Cristina and then situating himself next to Meredith.

"Very funny, Bambi." Alex snapped, whipping the apple into a nearby trashcan.

"Ooh. Don't talk about deer." Izzie Stevens glumly requested as she drug herself into the corridor shortly behind George, nursing her own steaming beverage.

"Why, what happened?" George asked as he edged over for her to situate herself on the gurney.

"I just spent the last hour stitching and compressing at least one hundred lacerations on some idiot who was pummeled by deer while hunting." She replied with a shake of her head and roll of her eyes.

"How does one get pummeled by a typically docile woodland creature?" Meredith inquired curiously, after blowing on her scalding drink.

"Well, I use the term 'hunting' loosely. He was shooting at it with bottle rockets, using the empty beer bottles he and his brother had downed." Izzie informed her, closing her eyes and leaning back against the wall.

"A prime example of a situation where natural selection has failed us." Cristina piped up, crossing her arms over her chest and deepening her pout.

"That's bitter." Izzie observed with raised eyebrows.

"She's bitter." Meredith supplied.

"At least I'm not petty." Cristina grumbled.

Just then, the heavy steel doors across from the gurneys swung open like the jaws of Hell, and Miranda Bailey stood before them, hands on her hips, brow furrowed.

"_What _reason on God's green earth do the five of you have for sitting so aimlessly on your behinds? Are you off duty, Karev? What about you, Stevens? Last I heard, Mr. Willis in Bed 10 needs more cold compresses for his hoof marks! O'Malley, I'm _still _waiting on my labs for Davis, and Yang, why aren't you prepping the Knowles girl for her tonsillectomy?" Before the end of her demands had even arrived, four bustling interns scrambled over each other clumsily, burning themselves with their drinks and getting tangled in each other scrubs. Only Meredith remained, innocently watching, and Bailey's eyes narrowed.

"And you…"

"I'm off duty!" she protested, putting her hands up in defense.

"Well, not anymore. Burke needs an intern." Bailey told her dismissively with a wave of her hand.

Meredith hurriedly collected her iPod and climbed off the gurney.

"On his high-profile, secret consults with the Chief?" she asked, her eyes wide and expectant.

"No, to pick up his dry cleaning. _Yes_ for the consult! _Move_, Grey."

* * *

Addison took two long, "cleansing" breaths as she listened to the recording of her husbands' voice on his cell phone's voicemail. When her cue to speak finally sounded, she whispered through clenched teeth, "Derek, this is unbelievable. I don't know where the hell you are, but unless you're lying somewhere on the absolute cusp of death, I don't care. The plane leaves in twenty minutes." 

She snapped her Blackberry into its dormant folded position, took two more "cleansing" breaths, and then walked back the few feet to where Sadie was sitting cross-legged, poking distractedly at her lunch as the chaotic din of the John F. Kennedy airport swirled around her. She seemed out of place in the bustle of business people, dressed in cozy black sweat pants and a grey hooded sweatshirt. Addison herself blended right in, dressed entirely in her staple black, topping it off with a camel jacket, but in that moment, her daughter had never seemed so small, so fragile, or so innocent.

Addison felt a protective surge of maternal love she had once—a very long time ago—doubted she even possessed, and sat with a sigh next to her daughter, running a hand affectionately through the little girl's thick hair. Derek's hair, really. Sadie looked up at her mother with imploring eyes.

"Mom, don't get mad." She said softly—heartbreakingly, to Addison.

"I'm not mad, Sadie. Finish your sushi." She responded quickly, moving her hand from Sadie's hair to rub her arm.

"_You are so_ mad. You have that wrinkle in your forehead." Sadie accused, pointing vaguely with a chopstick at Addison's face. Addison had to smile, despite the mention of her anger wrinkles.

"Well, I'm not mad at you." She assured her, kissing her forehead.

"I don't want you to be mad at Daddy, either." Sadie persisted, stuffing an entire shrimp roll in her mouth, despite its elongated size. The result was a comical puffing of her cheeks, the sight of which finally coaxed Addison to let a small laugh escape.

"Sadie…I'm not. I just wish he was here."

There was a moment of silence while Sadie chewed, swallowed, and then jabbed at another roll.

"That isn't what you said the other night."

Before the gravity of the statement from her daughter could fully register with Addison, she saw Derek jogging towards them.

"Hey, sorry I'm late!" he greeted, stopping and panting slightly as he dropped his bags. His hair was windblown, his tie looser than he would have wore it at the office, and his face was flush, making him appear to have jogged the entire way.

"Hello." Addison greeted coldly, though at that moment, she was immeasurably less angry with her husband than she was with herself.

"Hi, Dad." Sadie greeted through a mouthful of rice. Derek smiled, and embraced her delicately.

"How's my girl? Keeping your blood pressure down? Taking the pills Dr. Ianello prescribed?" he asked, discreetly feeling her wrist and peering into her eyes at her pupils. Sadie nodded as she took a swig of her drink.

"Yup. Mommy wouldn't even let me use the stairs. I had to use the escalator. How boring! It moves so slow!" she informed him with a scowl.

"Patience is a virtue." He reminded her with a twinkle in his eye.

"But it's boring." She maintained with an emphatic nod.

"As often is the case. Finish that, they might confiscate it at the gate as a weapon of mass destruction." He pointed with distaste at the colorful mess on her plate. Sadie blinked, not understanding, but went back to busily finishing her sushi, a taste she had definitely acquired from Addison. While she struggled with the cute indelicacy of a child to fit another roll into her mouth, Derek took that moment to turn to his wife.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine. I'm going to go get hot cocoa." She bit her lip, warding off a wave of angry words or worse, tears. She stood quickly, as if to escape the image of her daughter overhearing her and Derek's argument of two nights prior.

"Juju!" Sadie exclaimed, hearing only the last bit about hot cocoa.

"Yes, we definitely need some juju today." Addison agreed, though her words were halted. She began towards the nearby coffee stand, but took only a few steps before Derek's hand was on her arm.

"Addison…" his eyes were soft, rounded with concern as entreated her. She had to close her eyes not to be taken in by the promise of solace.

"What, Derek?" she hissed under her breath.

"What's going on?" he asked, not matching her hostility, but remaining infuriatingly concerned.

"Nothing! I'm going to get some juju." She attempted to take another step, but he held fast.

"This isn't about juju."

"No, it's about you being late today."

"No, it's not about that either."

"Well then what is it about, since you seem to already know?" she snapped, damning herself when Sadie's eyes flicked over to them. She closed her eyes again, wishing there was some universal rewind button on life.

_How far back would you go?_

"I don't know exactly but it sure as hell isn't hot chocolate or tardiness!" Derek returned, still gentle in his expression, recognizing the deep pain and turmoil in his wife's eyes, wishing to erase it, or in the very least, help ease it a little.

"You know, you're right." She agreed, her voice low. "But what it is about is something I don't think our eight-year-old should hear any more of."

"Any more of?" Derek's mouth came slightly ajar as he began to realize what she was so upset about.

"Forget it, Derek. We've got other things to concern ourselves with right now."

She pulled again to free her arm, and he let her go, but not without saying, "Addison, we _will_ talk about it."

"Right. When you're on time and our daughter's heart isn't slowly leaking blood."

* * *

**A/N: And there was a second chapter! There is a purpose to this story, I promise! I just felt some more character interaction and explanations were needed. Keep the feedback coming, it makes me spectacularly happy! Thanks to all who have contributed thus far. More is to come...**


	3. Gonna Buy This Place

**Chapter 3**

"Ebstein's Anomaly?" Meredith queried as she paged through the rather thick chart Preston Burke had handed her. "Shouldn't neonatal be taking care of this?"

"It's not a neonatal patient, Grey. The patient is almost nine years old." Burke replied, with his back to her as he examined some films on the wide, backlit projector. Meredith eased herself into a chair nearby, quizzically studying the file.

"And it went undiagnosed all these years?" She asked again. Burke pulled a film down quickly and exchanged it for another, never looking at Meredith.

"It seems so, yes."

"But…how?"

"Well, there are a couple of possibilities. It's possible the anomaly was so mild it never caused any kind of murmur or tinting, and was only aggravated now because the patient was growing and approaching puberty. A fluke, nobody's fault." He replied, squinting purposefully at the film.

"That's only one."

"What, Grey?"  
"You said there were a couple possibilities, but that was only one."

With that, he dropped his head and turned to her.

"The other possibilities I don't want to speculate about."

But the tone of his voice told Meredith all she needed to know. That, and being the daughter of a surgeon herself. It said in the file, not officially but in a note hand-written by the chief, that the parents of this patient were both surgeons. Foremost in their fields, in fact. Meredith didn't doubt they loved their daughter, just as her mother had loved her, but even so, it was a tough, tough business. Sometimes things non-surgical just slip under the radar. She remembered many occasions in which she got away with murder, basically, because her mother just…didn't seem to see what was going on outside of the operating room.

But Burke was right. Doctors don't speculate on that kind of stuff, especially concerning other doctors.

She abruptly cut off that line of thinking when the Chief opened the exam room door in a whoosh.

"Dr. Burke, Dr. Grey," he greeted abruptly, "The Shepherds have arrived and just got admitted."

He said nothing else, and closed the door so fast Meredith blinked and wondered if he had even actually opened it or just spoken through the window.

"Here we go." Burke said with a nod. Meredith collected the file into some semblance of order, and followed, reserving her judgment…for the most part.

* * *

"How's that, baby?" Derek asked as he arranged the chosen few of Sadie's dolls on the windowsill of the hospital room, trying in vain to distract from the grey, drizzling, overcast, ominous-looking sky just beyond the seven small heads. She cocked her head to a side, and put a thoughtful finger to her lips.

"Put Katherine to the left of Audrey." She directly him finally with a vague hand motion. Derek frowned, and looked to the dolls.

"Katherine…?"

"The redhead, Daddy."

"Ah!" he selected the only redhead in the bunch, and then hesitated again.

"Audrey's the skinny one."

"I knew that." He defended, placing the redhead between a skinny, dark-haired, doe-eyed doll and a doll with blonde hair.

Just at that moment, Addison emerged from the bathroom.

"You're putting Katharine next to Audrey? Isn't that a little confusing?" she observed, sitting next to Sadie and examining the arrangement with a devilish glint in her eye as Derek subtly implored her for help.

"You know you're right, Mommy." Sadie agreed. "Put Ingrid between them, please, Daddy."

Derek sent Addison a glare, and turned back to the dolls.  
"Okay…Ingrid…"

"She's the _blonde _next to Katherine!" Sadie giggled after he stood in confusion for a few moments.

"Oh! Of course!" Derek slid the blonde doll out and wedged her between the redhead and skinny brunette. With a hopeful raise of his eyebrows, Derek turned to his daughter.

"Better?"

"Perfect."

"Is Daddy going to change them into their pajamas tonight, too?" Addison asked with a smirk at Derek. Sadie shook her head seriously.

"No, Mommy, he's a boy! They have girl parts! He can't see them!"

Addison laughed, and Derek nodded emphatically.

"That's right, and don't you forget that in the next few years either!" he told her with a slight rise of panic at the thought his little girl and showing her "girl parts" to boys.

Sadie furrowed her brow in confusion, but before she could pose a question, the door to her hospital room opened and Burke stepped in, Meredith right behind him.

"Hello, Drs. Shepherd?" Burke greeted.

"Yes. I'm Derek Shepherd, and this is my wife—,"

"Addison." She supplied for herself as they both rose to shake hands with Burke.

"It's a pleasure to meet you—both of you. I've admired your work from afar."

"Likewise." Derek said with a smile and a nod. It was virtually an unwritten law that upon meeting other doctors, doctors are obligated at least two minutes of ego-inflation.

"Yes, your reputation definitely precedes you," Addison added, "That's why we're here."

"I'm flattered. I'm going to make this trip worth it and then some, too." With that, he turned to Meredith. "And this is Dr. Grey, who will be assisting me."

With a self-conscious flush, Meredith took the hand of Derek Shepherd and shook it professionally, though the man was pretty much the summary of every sexual fantasy she'd had since she was sixteen, standing before her eyes.

"Nice to meet you. I studied one of your cases—the Holmes pituitary gland reconstruction—in medical school." She informed him, capping her initial reaction.

"Wow, that's impressive." He said with a crooked, nearly self-deprecating smile. "I just aged about ten years."

Everyone in the room produced some kind of chuckle or smirk at the comment, when Addison put her hand out.

"Dr. Grey—any relation to the Grey Method _I _read about in medical school?" she inquired with a respectful expression.

"Second generation." Meredith supplied with a polite smile.

"That…is impressive." Addison smiled genuinely. With that, Burke stepped in.

"And you must be Sadie?" he asked the little girl perched on the bed.

"Yeah." She replied shyly, wrapping her blanket around her hands.

"I'm Dr. Burke, and this is Dr. Grey." Burke greeted gently, with a tenderness Meredith had never really witnessed before. He came to the little girl, observed the machines which had been pushed behind the bed for comfort purposes, but were still very much attached to her.

"Hello." She greeted with a coy smile, curling her knees up to her chin and wrapping her arms around them. She was one of those children who you carried a kind of adult beauty even at an early age, and would undoubtedly be a knockout when she finally reached adulthood.

_Go figure._ Meredith thought, considering her parentage. The Shepherds were a sleek, New York kind of good-looking couple, dressed chicly despite a long plane ride, as she expected, but most notably, they weren't the cold, preoccupied surgeon-parents she had expected. Or was used to, personally. They seemed genuinely and entirely focused on their daughter, right now at least.

Addison sat down next to her daughter again and tugged correctively on the braid in the girl's hair, while Derek stood with his arms crossed, intent and concerned.

"How does it look, Dr. Grey?" Burke finally asked, turning to Meredith. Meredith's eyes ticked quickly to the Shepherds, who were now focused intently upon her. Something about having them understand every harsh medical word she was about to say made her hesitant to produce the appropriate words at first.

"Well…the Anomaly in the—Sadie's heart, according to the EKG, has caused a tear on the underside of her tricuspid valve. It is two millimeters in length and one in width. It is at this time, leaking blood into her chest cavity, kept under control by coagulant drugs prescribed by Dr. James Ianello of New York."

"Corrective approach?"

"Well, the Anomaly itself will be corrected by closure of the atrial septal defect, but not until the tear is corrected through tricuspid repair surgery, soon." She felt the gaze of both of the Shepherds upon her, but it wasn't the burning anxiety as a result of misunderstanding, like most patients' families. Somehow, their understanding had made it easier.

"Okay. So what will our next step be?"

"Cardiac catheterization to fully define her cardiac anatomy and function." Meredith finished efficiently.

"Perfect. Why don't you take Sadie upstairs, Dr. Grey, and prep her for that?"

"Certainly." Meredith went to the side of the bed, while Burke began fielding questions from the Shepherds.

* * *

"So how have you been feeling today, Sadie?" Meredith asked as they stood—well, Sadie sat in a wheelchair, much to her chagrin—waiting for the elevator. The little girl carelessly rolled her tiny shoulders under her colorful Strawberry Shortcake pajama top.

"Okay, I guess. A little hard to breathe sometimes, and I always feel cold." She responded.

"Well that could be the medicine Dr. Ianello had you on and…" Meredith caught herself as the elevator doors parted and she nudged the wheelchair inside.

"And the fact that my heart has a hole in it?" Sadie supplied helpfully.

Meredith bit her lip. "Well…yeah." _Great beside manner, Grey._

"You don't have to be afraid of scaring me, Meredith. Both of my parents are surgeons. I hear stuff like that and worse all the time. I'm not scared." Sadie assured her, turning her head to focus her huge blue eyes on Meredith, who had to admit this little girl charmed her. It was easy to say she didn't want children when she was everywhere but with a particularly adorable one.

"That's good. That's really good, because you shouldn't be afraid. Dr. Burke is the best heart surgeon out there, and he's going to take care of this and you'll be home in no time." Meredith assured her, smiling.  
The elevator began its ascension, marked by the round floor indicators becoming alit with an emphasizing _ping. _Two floors passed before Sadie asked distractedly, "How long will I have to recover?"

"I'm not sure, probably a while."

"I guess I'm going to miss my ballet recital next month." She observed flatly.

"Probably." Meredith sympathized. "But after this, you'll probably be a better dancer."

"That's okay. I only really joined again this year because my mom really likes it. She used to go to the ballet in New York all the time, and when I started dancing, she came to that all the time, too. I finally got a part in one of _The Nutcracker _last Christmas." The little girl beamed with pride, but then added, almost as an aside, "But she had work, and so did Daddy. They work hard."

Meredith sighed as the elevator slowly rose. She could have been listening to her eight-year-old-self talking. She looked down at Sadie Shepherd, seated obediently with her hands folded on her lap, careful of the IV when she occasionally shifted position. Her dark hair was pulled back and loosely braided, secured with a pink band, falling around her delicate, rounded face. Her pajamas were brightly colored with the familiar little red-headed cartoon character smiling cheerily all over, and her slippers were thick pink socks with bits of glitter in them. She looked, by all accounts, like the average, well cared for eight-year-old girl, but she wasn't. Not on the inside.

"You know, I know what it's like." Meredith said suddenly.

"What?" Sadie asked, intrigued enough to turn her very adult-like gaze back to Meredith.

"Being the child of a surgeon. It's hard, sometimes." Meredith said with a shrug.

"Yeah. Try having both of your parents being surgeons." Sadie remarked.

"They're probably not home much, are they?"

"Nope. Not together, anyway. And when they are…"

"They fight." Meredith finished, a pang of sour familiarity jabbing in her stomach.

"Sorta. Or just don't talk much to each other. They just go into their offices after dinner and work on stuff for their patients." Sadie told her, her voice sounding noncommittal to the average listener, but not quite overcoming the well-hidden hurt Meredith knew too well.

Meredith nodded. "Yeah. There was that, too. It's not easy, in fact, a lot of the time, it hurt—,"

Sadie cut Meredith off, her chin quivering but her resolve firm.

"For me? No…I'm not dying. Their patients are. That's more important than—,"

"Ballet recitals?" Meredith offered softly.

A beat of silence passed, cut through only by the seventh floor's _ping _as it changed to the eighth floor.

"It is." Sadie insisted, turning her gaze to her hands, which had wadded up her blanket into a ball on her lap. Meredith knelt beside the wheelchair and took one of her hands.

"You know, Sadie, just because your parents spend a lot of time on their patients doesn't mean they think they're more important than you. They love you, very much, more than any patient."

"I know." The little girl murmured, meeting Meredith's understanding gaze with one of sadness.

"Well, it's good that you know that. Because sometimes, I used to wonder."

* * *

"That's two heart surgeries."

"Yes."

"In one day."

"Yes."

"On our…Sadie."

"Yes."

"To correct an Anomaly someone—_we—_should have detected years ago."

"Yes."

"We didn't notice Ebstein's Anomaly in our own child."

"Yes."

"Damn it Addison, stop saying yes!"

With that change in his voice from flat calm to near panic, she turned from the window of Sadie's hospital room and looked with her anguished eyes at Derek, who sat on the bed.

"Okay."

With that, he stood and strode to the bathroom, slamming the door.

After a few moments, she went to the door and leaned against it, tears running down her cheeks.

"Derek?"

No response.

She edged the door open and saw him leaning over the sink, his head in his hands.

"We are pathetic." He mumbled.

She nodded, averting her gaze to the floor.

"These past weeks," he continued. "Hell, not even weeks. _Years. _We've been absorbed so much in our own battles we didn't even notice."

Derek straightened, and looked at her from the mirror, his face stained with tears. She barely suppressed a sob by digging her teeth into her lip.

"She could have died." She said brokenly, her face twisting under pressure from a battle to keep from crying. Derek hurriedly covered the two strides it took to cross the room and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Shh, shh, Addie…" He whispered as she cried. He slowly turned her so she was facing him completely, and then gently guided her head to his shoulder. She bunched his shirt in her hands, gripping onto him for dear life. He leaned down into her hair, tightening his embrace, equally for his own comfort as well as hers.

"Derek, what's wrong with us?" she demanded.

"I don't…know." He felt ashamed, and even worse, more helpless than he ever had before. His daughter was sick and his wife was crying, and there was very little in either case he could do to fix either problem. Addison never cried like this or this often, and as she choked from the pressure of her agony against him, it tore him open inside, burning his eyes with tears. He tightened his embrace again, and kissed her hair by her ear.

"Addison, you need to calm down. Grey is going to be back in a little while with Sadie—do you want her to see you like this?" he whispered gently. She took a few moments to cease crying, and finally sat on the edge of the toilet.

"I'm okay." She assured him as she scrubbed at her eyes with the heels of her palms. He knelt by the toilet and took her hand.

"About the other night…" he said slowly, her eyes widening in reaction to his mention of their previous argument. "Let's forget about it. It's in the past now, can't be changed, and we have more important things to worry about."

Her lips parted slightly, in shock maybe, and Derek took the opportunity to lightly kiss her.

"It's okay, Addie." He reassured her against her mouth when she didn't speak. She blinked, and then shook her head.

"No, Derek, it's not." She whispered coarsely. He sat back on his heels.

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying," Addison murmured as new tears blossomed on her lashes and plunged down her cheeks, "That we should get divorced."

* * *

**A/N: Don't hurt me, please! More is coming! And if you're an Addek fan who is plotting my demise, don't. It's not over yet!**

**As a side note, I love the feedback thus far. Thank you, it makes me smile. :)  
**


	4. Watch It Fall

_Okay, okay…so I didn't want to reveal the "ship" behind this little story here because frankly, I didn't want people—assuming they have an inclination similar to mine—to judge their reading of my story solely on that. Plus, it's really fun to keep you guessing and all aflutter. :)  
But now, because of the many pleadings as well as the fact that this chapter might lead you to draw some hasty conclusions, I will tell you, _guarantee you,_ this is going to be a Derek/Addison story. Eventually. And I never imagined another way to end it, either._

_So…are you happy? I caved and told you! You broke me._

_Okay, on to the story…_

* * *

**Chapter Four**

"So what's the story? Ooh. Sorry." Izzie popped her head up from behind the coffee machine suddenly, startling Meredith to the point her coffee-in-progress popped out of her grasp and landed in the garbage.

"Thank God for small favors." She muttered, regarding the caffeinated beverage with only one of her usual two spoonfuls of sugar as it ran in streams down a rejected plastic plate, staining a half-eaten sandwich. Better than on her scrubs.

With a sigh, she grabbed another cup and began to fill it again.

"So…what is the story?' Izzie asked again, practically bouncing with anticipation.

"It's Ebstein's Anomaly." Meredith granted her, carefully pouring two spoonfuls of sugar into the cup. She focused much more on that than she needed to, because suddenly she didn't feel like dishing with Izzie. It wasn't Izzie, because she was only curious, and normally Meredith would have just told her (especially about the gorgeous Dr. _Derek_ Shepherd), but out of a kind of respect, she supposed, for Sadie, she stopped speaking.

"That's it? Jeez, with all the gossip going around I would have thought it was the plague, or a two-penised fetus." She mused, obviously disappointed. Meredith rolled her eyes.

"Why is it we wish the worst for our patients to amuse ourselves?" she asked rhetorically. Izzie shrugged as she pulled a bagel from the kiosk.

"Not necessarily the worst. I'd rather have two penises than Ebstein's. At least with two penises it's not overly invasive. You just—_snip._" She made a scissoring motion with her fingers and laughed when George walked over.

"I don't even want to know." He told them, shaking his head and pulling a cup from the dispenser.

"You're right." Meredith assured him, sipping her coffee.

"So what's the huge consult the Chief put you on with Burke?" he asked easily.  
Before Meredith could share, Izzie piped up, "Oh, it's just Ebstein's Anomaly."

"Oh." George said with a shrug, taking a swig of his coffee only to pull back and hiss, "Hot!" and run for ice chips.

"Are you talking about the case you Bogarted from me?" Cristina asked sarcastically, appearing beside Izzie with charts in hand.

"I hardly Bogarted the case from you. I was just the only pin standing when Bailey swept through the corridor. Besides, it's only Ebstein's Anomaly." Meredith argued.

"Seriously? Never mind then. This craniotomy is more involved anyway." And with that, Cristina disappeared with her charts.  
"See?" Meredith indicated to Izzie with a jab of her hand.

"That's Cristina, Mer, not everybody. Some of us are actually in this to save lives, not to play with people's insides." With that, the cheery blonde's pager exploded in a cacophony, and she bound off in the direction of neonatal with a quick, "See you!"

Finally alone, Meredith took a leisurely sip from her drink.

Not two seconds later, a form appeared by her side.

"Oh! Dr. Shepherd!" Meredith greeted, once again startled when she recognized Addison Shepherd standing beside her. The woman looked frazzled. Well, as frazzled as Meredith imagined she ever looked. Her hair was a bit mussed and her eyes were puffy.

"Is that for employed doctors, only?" she inquired to the coffee machine, looking desperate. Meredith shook her head.

"No, have some." She moved to the side as Addison pulled a cup from the dispenser and filled it with coffee.

"You would think in Seattle I'd be able to find Seattle's Best Coffee." Addison observed. "But this is the only place I've seen it. Everywhere else is that damned Starbucks."

Meredith had to laugh. "Not a fan?"

"Yeah, and I think I'm the only one on the island of Manhattan, too." Addison quipped, taking a long pull from her cup and seeming to ease a bit.

"Well, not the only one in the country. I personally think it's pretty disgusting, too."

Addison smiled genuinely now, the tension in her face loosening a bit. She still seemed on edge, and for the first time since meeting her, Meredith felt sorry for her.

"Sadie's a great kid." Meredith said, not entirely sure why.

"Thank you." Addison acknowledged quietly. A moment passed before she said, "She thinks highly of you, too. I think you're the only person, besides my husband or I, who knows what she's talking about when she goes on about _Bringing Up Baby _or _The Philadelphia Story._ Seriously, she was impressed."

"Well, Katherine Hepburn was kind of my hero growing up. I was the only kid then who watched her, too." Meredith said with a smile, recalling memories of watching late-night television and falling in love with old Hollywood movies while she waited to hear the rumble of her mother's car and the open and close of the front door, signaling her arrival home.

Addison smiled again, indulging in her coffee.

"Well, I'm glad she's in the company of friends." She drained the cup, discarded it delicately, and held out her hand. "Thank you, Dr. Grey."

Meredith took it. "Meredith, please, Dr. Shepherd."

"Well, then Addison, please, Meredith."

* * *

_We should get divorced._ Had he actually heard that right?

Yes. He had.

Derek had then proceeded to watched dumbly when Meredith Grey had reappeared moments later with Sadie, and Addison had practically ran from his grasp in the bathroom. He hadn't objected, obviously, in front of Sadie, but as soon as the little girl had drifted off to sleep and the opportunity to talk again had reappeared, Addison had been off like a shot to find coffee.

He had waited, collecting his patience and temper, and made sure Sadie was asleep, before he set off down the halls of the surgical floor in search of her.

After making two circles around the wing and then stumbling onto the main lobby, he spotted her, up on the catwalk by a coffee machine, talking to the pretty Dr. Grey.

He admonished himself as he bound up the stairs. It wasn't very professional or respectful to think of her as "pretty Dr. Grey," but she was. In a childish way. She looked to him, as a man and as someone well acquainted with the human mind, as someone who beneath the intelligence and inherited brilliance was not loved as much as she needed or deserved to be.

Her small, delicate frame and loosely tied blonde hair spilling down the back of her rumpled blue scrubs only emphasized this nearly waifish quality, and it was accentuated even more so as he watched her next to Addison, who was tall, impeccably dressed in sleek black, and very womanly.

But then, appearances could be deceiving. He knew Addison, too, to be a woman in need of a lot of things, despite the façade of complete calm, control, and sometimes, even aloofness that she wore like a shield.

Dr. Grey spotted him first, as Addison's back was to his approach, and she acknowledged him with a head nod. He smiled easily, and came along the side of his wife.

"Hello, Dr. Grey. Addison." He greeted. Dr. Grey smiled and greeted him casually, whereas Addison straightened and seemed to be looking for an escape. Luckily, he had the presence of Dr. Grey to deter that.

"Discussing pertinent matters, I'm sure." He observed with another easy smile, seeming to subtly take his wife's unoccupied hand in a gesture of affection. She, much more subtly than he, bit her well-manicured nail into his palm, realizing his plan. He forced a smile for Dr. Grey.

"Actually, we were just discussing the pros and cons of film noir." Meredith supplied.

"Oh," he managed, clearing his throat. "Well, Sadie would be sad to hear she missed that."

"Is she still asleep?" Addison asked evenly.

"Sound. Dr. Burke said that would be a result of the medication." He responded, smiling even wider as Addison pressed harder.

"Well, you two should probably go somewhere, get something to eat, and relax." Meredith suggested, finishing her coffee and throwing it in the trash. "She'll probably be out for a few hours, at least."

"That…" Derek swallowed. "…is a good idea."

"There's a great place just down the block for Italian. You can have a great view of the harbor, too. Lots of ferries at this hour." She suggested again, though ever so slowly becoming aware of some unspoken standoff between the Shepherds.

Derek only smiled. "That's wonderful. I love ferryboats."

* * *

Meredith watched their exit thoughtfully from the catwalk. Derek had held Addison's hand as they made it down the stairway and out of the sliding door's mouth onto the sidewalk, but as soon as they assumed themselves to be outside scrutiny, Addison had pulled her hand free and Derek had turned his own upward, examining it. Meredith frowned and wondered just what the hell was up with those two.

In front of the hospital, Addison was fuming and not hiding it, a fact that was serving to fan the flames of Derek's temper.

"Derek, do I look like I want to go out to dinner with you? Do I look like I even want to be in the same room, right now?" she demanded, her face flushed. After flexing his sore hand a few times, he responded with equal venom.

"Do you think you're my number one choice of company right now?"

"Then why the little show for Dr. Grey? Why are we out here?" she demanded, gesturing wildly to the somber atmosphere that was fall in Seattle.

"Because, whether either of us likes it or not, we have to talk. And I'd prefer not to do it in front of Sadie or the surgical staff of Seattle Grace."

"I've said all I need to say." Addison attempted to storm by him, but he grabbed her by the arm before she could pass. Not hard enough to hurt her, but hard enough she stopped in her tracks.

"Would you stop acting like a god damned child?" he asked in a low voice. "Do you really think I'm just going to let you walk away like this? I'm not going to give up on us that quickly, Addison, even if you are."

She didn't respond for a long time, only looked past him with anger and pain coloring her face and eyes. He waited, unrelenting in his hold.

"Fine." She managed through gritted teeth, and spun on her heel towards their car. He followed, relishing, if only temporarily, in victory.

* * *

They settled on—or more like, went to the only place that Addison did more than glare at—a take-out sushi establishment two blocks away from the hospital. Derek ordered only rice, trying hard to hold back his gag reflex as he watched the chef chopping up the raw fish for Addison's order. When the man finally handed the clear plastic box to Derek with the fleshy salmon strips swaddled in rice and seaweed looking up at him, he handed the money over and exited as quickly as was humanly possible.

When he returned to the Car of Hostility as he had affectionately dubbed it, Addison silently took the package he offered and dug in, using her chopsticks with clipped, efficient speed. He poked at his rice a bit before speaking.  
"Why divorce?" _Why beat around the bush?_

The purposeful, rhythmic clicking of her chopsticks was interrupted momentarily, but then resumed.

"It's all we've got left, Derek. We did marriage counseling. We did individual therapy. Nothing has changed. Hell, it's gotten worse." She informed him matter-of-factly. Her clicking chopsticks gained force, and he gave her a few moments before his hand shot out and steadied her.

"And that's it? You're just going to throw away everything we've been for eleven years, _eleven years_, after a few sessions of therapy? Think of Sadie, for God's sake." he asked, fear chewing away at him when she wouldn't meet his gaze. Another few moments passed.

"What do you suggest?" she countered.

"I suggest we just forgive each other, and forget about it. Move on." He expelled exasperatingly. Her eyebrows shot up, and she turned her upper body towards him.

"Seriously? You want to just forget it? Pretend none of it ever happened?"

"Yes! If we could just move on past it, we'll work on the other stuff!" Derek insisted. To his surprise, Addison laughed.

"What? What is so funny?" he demanded, his brows knitting in confusion.

"You, Derek. Us. Don't you realize this kind of denial is what is at the very root of all our problems?" she practically shrieked amidst her humorless laughter.

"No, Addison, I think the fact that you had sex with another man is closer to the root of our problems."

With that comment, she was silenced, Derek assumed in guilt, and his fury was intense enough to cook the raw food on her lap. He averted his heated stare to the steering wheel before him, as if it had been the catalyst to create this entire situation.

"At least you finally said it out loud." she finally remarked morosely.

"Does that actually make you _happy_?" he demanded, raising his voice so loud that a poly-tattooed and –pierced couple exiting the sushi restaurant paused and stared for a few moments. When Addison didn't respond, only glassily and miserably stared into her hands, Derek slammed his fist into the steering wheel with all of his strength, cracking his fingers in various places.

"Jesus Christ, Addison. Why are you doing this? Why are you making this all so…_Why do we have to talk about it_?" he screamed, practically rattling the windows.

"_Because, _Derek, this cycle of denial, of just ignoring the problems in our marriage and in our lives in the hopes they'll disappear has got to end!" she returned, her volume matching his.

"That's it? That's your justification?"

"I'm not excusing it, Derek, I'm just telling you _why. _There is a world of difference. And what other motive would it be? Just to cause you pain? Do you think that's my goal here? No, Derek, I just wanted you to, for once, acknowledge me! Acknowledge _us_!"

"So you didn't think that by sleeping with another man, you would cause me any pain? Do you think it's easy for me to even look at you without thinking about _him_, and his _hands_ all over you?" he grabbed her wrists in either of his hands and pulled them to his chest.

"Or what about…what about _your_ hands all over _him_?" he demanded barely above a whisper now, with tears running down his face. "How do you think it feels for me to picture _that?_"

Now it she who began to cry, first only tears streaking down her face in free-flowing rivers that took her expensive mascara with them, but soon, as he held her in that position, her entire body was wracked with sobs.  
"Yes, yes, yes!" she managed between gasps for breath. "I did think of you, Derek, the…entire…time. _And that's why I didn't actually have sex with him_!" she sobbed so hard that her sentence ended there, and her head hung downward, resting in her arms as he held them in crushing strength.

The scene was tragic. At the sound of her agonized sobbing and gasps for breath, as well as his own personal pain and the built up stress concerning Sadie gushing out, Derek began crying unabashedly, resting his head against Addison's. People stopped and surveyed the scene, but soon assessed that no one was being more abused than the other, and moved on.

"Derek…Derek…" Addison managed finally, feeling emotionally spent, and using her numb fingers to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Please, please don't cry." Acting instinctively, she cradled his head on her shoulder as he continued to cry, though he was controlling it much better than she had.

She spent a long while running her hands comfortingly through his hair, and after a while, he became silent. Then, he wound his arms around her.

"Why didn't you tell me the other night?" he asked miserably, his head still buried in her shoulder.

""Did it matter, Derek? You were so sure…"

"Of course it _matters!" _He said forcefully, sitting up. "I thought you had an _affair_!"

"But don't you see?" She whispered as more tears ran down her cheeks. "You were so quick to push it aside, to act as if the idea of my having an affair was no matter. I knew then, I knew we would never be able to get out of this…this sick denial. That there was nothing, _nothing _in the world that would ever make you _acknowledge _me, us, or our marriage again. Not even my having sex, even if it was just in your mind, with another man, was enough to get you to care."

She took a deep breath, and exhaled it heavily. "This is why we can't be together anymore. You don't care enough, not anymore."

With that, he withdrew his head from her shoulder, moving his forehead to rest against hers, their eyelashes practically touching.  
"Are you so sure of my indifference that you don't even want to _try _anymore?" he asked in a gravelly voice, abused and coarse from his crying.

She opened her mouth, but then closed it. She wanted to scream, at the top of her lungs, _No. No. No, a thousand times, no. I love you._

But when she opened her mouth again, she only said, "I can't wait anymore, Derek. I can't wait for it to pass."

* * *

**  
A/N: So…this chapter pretty much speaks for itself. Let me know what you think…and stay tuned, if you're not too angry with me!**


	5. Some Will Laugh, Some Just Sit and Cry

**Chapter 5**

Meredith looped her multicolored, knit scarf haphazardly around her neck, juggling her bag and taking a moment to pull her hair from beneath it, before she eased the door to Sadie Shepherd's room open. It was pitch dark except for the dull swatch of light by the monitors, and the only reason Meredith could see the little girl was because of the contrast between the stark whiteness of the hospital pillow and the inky blot of her hair upon it. She edged over slowly, careful of the soles of her shoes to keep them from clicking too loudly, and peered at the machines.

All seemed well. Her heart rate was lower than normal, but that was expected. Her oxygen level was good, too. Her breathing was regular, a little shallow, but regularity was the important factor. Meredith nodded satisfactorily, readjusted her bag, and was just out the door to leave when a bright white light pierced the darkness.

"Meredith?" Sadie asked weakly, rolling over slowly. Meredith turned back.

"Yeah, sorry, go back to sleep!" she whispered, but watched as Sadie sat up and pulled the iPod buds from her ears.

"I wasn't really asleep." She assured her sluggishly as she lethargically clicked on the bedside light, flooding the room with an artificial yellowish hue.

"I just came to check on you. You're doing really well, kiddo." Meredith observed with a smile. Sadie seemed relieved. Meredith looked at the device on her lap.

"Did you just get that?"

Sadie looked at the shiny, white-plated player.

"Yeah. My mom's friend, Savvy, said I couldn't be a real New Yorker in the long run without one." She said with a sad smile. "She got it for me to travel here with. I only have a hundred fifty songs on it so far."

Meredith moved back into the room and sat on the unoccupied neighboring bed.

"Oh believe me, they'll fill up fast. I've had mine for a few months and I already have over a thousand songs on it."

"Wow!"

"Yeah…but this afternoon it broke," she reached into her bag for the dormant iPod, cursing herself for letting it slip from her grip during lunch. "And I tried resetting it but nothing seems to work."

"You must be upset. I've only had mine for a few days but as soon as it's out of my reach I get a little nervous." Sadie said with grave seriousness. Meredith laughed at the thoughtful crease in her brow, a trait that, among others, was obviously one bestowed upon the child by her mother.

"I'm hoping tonight when I get home I can go online and figure out how to fix it." Meredith shrugged, checking her watch. "Well, I'm going to get in trouble if I keep you up too late. Do you need or want anything before I head out?"

Sadie tinkered with the iPod in her hands. "No…not really."

"You sure?" Meredith asked, tilting her head.

"Yeah, I'm okay." She bit her lip. She didn't mention how when she had woken up before, it had been harder than before to breathe. But she was okay now—well, better than before anyway—and she didn't want Meredith to worry. She liked her when she was more like her friend, and less like her doctor. She had a lot of experience with doctors. But she also didn't want Meredith to call her parents and have them worry. Her dad hadn't shaved in two days and had a scruffy black shadow clinging to his face, and her mom had taken to pulling and twirling her hair, something Sadie knew she only did when she was _really_ upset. And it was all because of her. So she stayed silent.

"Well…all right. I'll be back before you're up, tomorrow, and I'll see you then. Sleep well, Sadie." With that, Meredith pushed herself off of the bed.

"Bye, Meredith." Sadie said sweetly, smiling.

Meredith exited, but instead of making a beeline to the elevators like usual, she stopped at the nurse's station.

"Keep an eye on the little girl in room 747. If anything changes significantly, page me."

* * *

After the episode in the car had ended and they had sufficiently loitered in front of Sushi Go-Go long past the legal limits, Derek and Addison had driven in silence to the Doubletree down the street from the hospital where they had carelessly dumped their few belongings upon their initial arrival in Seattle. The car idled in the valet port, and they remained silent, the purr of the engine the only sound.

When the well-dressed but weary valet wrapped a white-gloved hand on the window, Derek jumped. Sluggish from considerable emotional catharsis, they both moved slowly from the car, and stood on the curb of the hotel even after the car had glided away.

"I need a drink." Derek said finally, in a barely audible murmur. Addison hugged her tan camel coat against her, and shivered.

"I don't. I'm going to bed." And she disappeared into the revolving doors. Derek watched her retreat, and as soon as the elevator doors slid shut around her, taking her from his vision, he turned on his heel and walked into the chilly, saturated Seattle night.

* * *

"The usual?"

"Actually, I'm taking it easy tonight. Just a beer." Meredith replied, easing her weight onto the stool and slinging her bag over the one next to her. Joe nodded with a smile, and produced a Killian's Irish Red from below the bar. Meredith popped the lid, took a long, leisurely pull from the small mouth of the bottle. Before the beer bottle hit the bar top, George hit the stool on the other side of her. He didn't speak at first, only shook his head and moved his beer in his hands, a sure sign of anxiety.

"What's the matter, George?" Meredith inquired. He continued a vague shaking of his head, and Meredith peered around him, asking, "Where's Olivia?"

"Olivia!" he spoke finally and definitively, as if that answered all of her queries. Meredith raised an eyebrow and grabbed his arm.

"George! You look like a palsy patient! What's wrong? Where's Olivia?" she asked, as if speaking to a child. He snorted and took a shallow sip of his beer.

"She's…she's at the house." He said, tight with tension.

"Okay…and why is she there without you?"

"Because…because she's asleep and I left."

"Why, George?"

"Because…" he took another drink, a deeper one. "I don't know what I'm doing."

"Well let me clear it up. You're at a bar, alone, at night, while your girlfriend is asleep at home in bed. Whatever else you're doing can't be good." Meredith explained, ignoring her beer. He shrugged agitatedly.

"I know, I know I should be there with her…but, I just don't know." He looked at her with his sorrowful, Bambi-like expression she found endearing in a brotherly sort of way. "What if she's not the one?"

Meredith frowned.

"Seriously?"

"What?" he exclaimed.

"You've been with Olivia for almost a year now! She's hopelessly in love with you, and never once have I ever heard of you thinking of her as any less than the woman of your dreams. What changed?" when he didn't respond, only took a drink and avoided her glance, she tilted her head, understanding.

"Is this because she moved into the house?" His continual avoidance of her eyes and another vague shrug gave her the answer.

"Oh George, don't be typical." Meredith implored, taking a swig of beer again. "Seriously, why should her moving in bring all this doubt into the relationship?"

"Because now it's…it's serious!" he nearly hissed the last word, being horribly guyish about the entire thing. Meredith rolled her eyes.

"Okay, think about this: Would you rather she move out?"

"No!" he answered immediately. "I mean, I don't think so."

"Do you like seeing her in the morning when you wake up?"

"Yes."

"When you go to bed?"

"Definitely."

"How about if tomorrow when you woke up, she was gone. How would you feel then?"

A few beats passed before he looked at her.

"I'd feel crappy. Really, super crappy."

Meredith tossed her arms.

"There you go. Whatever happens will happen. But the bottom line is, you want to live with Olivia and she wants to live with you. So live together you shall." She took a victorious pull from her beer, and George nodded slowly.

"I guess. But is it really that simple?"

"Why not? Why not for once, just keep relationships simple?" Meredith asked, reverting more to rhetoric. "In my experience, they only really get fouled up when we bring erroneous variable into them."

George heaved a sigh, and then drained his beer.

"Okay. I'll go home and get into bed with the woman I love." He mumbled, but a smile tugged at his lips.

"Good night, George." Meredith dismissed him with a singsong voice. He smiled sheepishly, grabbed his bag, and headed out. Meredith nodded again with satisfaction and raised the beer to her lips once again.

"This seat taken?" a voice, alarmingly familiar asked. Without bringing the beer down, she moved her eyes over the rim of the bottle to see Derek Shepherd. Fighting the intense surprised reaction of her body, which would result in choking on the beer in her mouth and ungracefully spewing it all over his silk shirt, Meredith took a hard swallow and shrugged.

"Only if you sit in it." She replied smartly, though noting the tautness in his features. He slung a sleek jacket over the bar and eased next to her.

"What can I get you?' Joe asked, his interest peaked by the devastating attractiveness Derek Shepherd permeated from his very breathing, even in this elevated state of anguish and worry.

"Double scotch, single malt." He replied, the usual order rolling easily from his mouth. Joe nodded, and sauntered off when Derek directed his gaze to Meredith.

"So, Doctor Grey," he said with misery in his voice, "What's your story?"

Meredith, her beer empty but still clutched in her now damp palm, raised her eyebrows.

"My story? I don't have a story. I'm just a girl in a bar." She replied, watching as Joe handed the tiny, amber-filled glass to Derek. He took a sip, never breaking his stare.

"Oh, c'mon. Everyone has a story." He returned with a crooked humorless smile.

She could only smile in return.

"Well you go first."

Derek pressed his lips together.

Where should he start? Do a David Copperfield, describe his driven, obsessive parents that had incessantly pushed and prodded him through his childhood and early adulthood? Or should he start in adulthood, with his optimistic, naïve, love struck marriage to Addison, the arrival of Sadie, and his rise to fame as the best neurosurgeon on the East coast, possibly the country? No, that was cliché. How about when said marriage seemed to dissolve into the background of his priorities, along with—though he only now admitted it—parenthood in lieu of his career? No. That was par for the course. His story for why he was in the bar at that hour talking to this woman was much more recent.

After taking another tug of liquor and allowing it to burn its unique path down his esophagus, he spoke.

"Two days ago, I found a love note for my wife that I didn't write." With just enough melodrama, he pulled from the pocket of his jacket the note he had found two nights before amongst Addison's work. He placed it on the bar, and Meredith read it quizzically.

Addison,

I don't regret my behavior.

I hope you don't, either.

He doesn't deserve you.

You should be with someone who does.

Love, Jamie

"Who's…Jamie?" she managed, pushing the note slightly more towards him. He looked at it and shook his head.

"An intern that works for her."

"Are they…I mean, were they…"

"I thought so." He responded quickly, signaling nonverbally for Joe to fill his glass again. "But she told me tonight they didn't."

"And you believe her?" Meredith queried, sourness exploding in her stomach at the idea of marital infidelity as memories of her parents' problems washed over her.

"I do." he nodded, taking a sip from the refreshed drink. "I mean, of course I doubted it, but the more I think about it, when I found that, I didn't give her much of a chance to explain. Hell, I didn't give her any. And when I think about her when I found it, she was trying to tell me something, but I..."

"Well…what did you do?"

He pressed his hands to either side of his head and closed his eyes.

"I laughed." He murmured. Meredith cocked an eyebrow.

"That's not…the usual reaction."

He was silent for a few moments.

"I don't know why I'm telling you this." He murmured.

"Because I'm listening." She returned with a shrug.

"I…I laughed because…I should have been shocked. Outraged. Jealous. But…I didn't feel any of those things." He mused, opening his eyes and removing his hands from his head to grasp his glass. "I was just…a voice in my head told me I should have been expecting this. That, in reality, I was almost as responsible for it as she was. We…I…she…we haven't been the closest these past…years."

"Work?"

"That, and just…everything. I—both of us—were just a little absent. And that little grew to very. And then, somewhere, very became completely." He finished the drink, finally, and flipped the glass over.

Meredith considered this. It was a typical story, one that could unfold among any two successful married people. Especially if they happened to be doctors. Sometimes, the results were disastrous, as it had been for her when a very similiar situation gutted her family when she was five. Here was essentially the same instance—with a little less complication, seeing as apparently Mrs. Dr. Shepherd hadn't actually had an affair like Ellis Grey had. But the fact still remained, that when this kind of gulf was allowed to expand, people found themselves in bed with a stranger every night, but unable to grow closer, as would normally take place were the other person actually a stranger suddenly brought into their life. No, this was an inescapable kind of distance.

This realization, Meredith deduced, after almost twelve years of marriage, coupled only the next day by the discovery of Sadie's arguably obvious health issue, had obviously been destroying the Shepherds. It would explain Addison's depressive resignation, Derek's listless hopelessness, and especially, Sadie's well-masked melanchol.

"And now, what?" she asked, allowing him the opportunity to refuse to answer. He blew a breath from between his lips and once again met her gaze with a devastated smile.

"Now…my wife wants a divorce. And I can't even blame her. I have become…indifferent. Cold. Detached. And our marriage is, basically, a shell of what was once a really great love." He dejectedly rolled his shoulders, and Meredith scowled, thinking suddenly of George.

"You did love her, then?"

"Yes, of course."

"Do you still?"

He knitted his brow sadly. "I do."

"Does she still love you?"

This time he hesitated. "I don't know. I just don't know. I think so."

Meredith shook her head.

"You have to find out."

He blinked.

"Excuse me?"

"You have to find out!" she insisted, yanking his jacket from its resting place, and tossing it on him.

"But…" he bumbled, but Meredith cut him off.

"It's my turn, for my story. You want to know why I'm in this bar? It's really a much longer story, but it boils down to one thing- giving up."

Derek was still bewildered. "I don't understand."

"Look," she spread her hands in pedagogic manner. "My mother—an amazing surgeon. Not so amazing was she as a mother, and definitely not as a wife. She had an affair. I don't know if was really an affair or if she was in love, but in the end, she told my dad and made him leave. She told him to. And you know what? He did. He left. He went quietly into the night, because that's what she wanted. But you know what? That was bullshit. He never once considered fighting her, finding out if she still loved him. He just gave up."

Derek's face had caved in with understanding, and anguish.

"I'm sorry." He murmured uselessly.

"Don't be!" she said with a dismissive hand motion. "Because really, it's unchangeable at this point. There's no going back, for my father. He let his marriage, love, and child go like it was nothing—like it have never been anything. If he hadn't done that, and I hate to speculate on ridiculous what-ifs, but if he hadn't done that, maybe their marriage could have salvaged. Maybe I would still have somewhat of a relationship with him. Maybe he wouldn't be this abstract figure I only imagine. Maybe, I wouldn't be sitting here right now, in this bar, by myself."

Derek's mouth slid open, but Meredith cut him off.

"I know, it's oversimplified and Freudian, but really, you never know what could have been. We know what was. And you have a chance, a real chance here, to fight indifference and make the future better for you, your wife, and for your daughter. You still love your wife—maybe she still loves you, too. If she does, you have to fight. Because it's what should be done. Because you can't just…quit on people you love when there's still love left. That, quitting, is worse than any indifference."

A long moment of silence drew between the essential strangers, Derek's head muddled with discontent and confusion, Meredith's whirling with memories painfully etched in her heart.

Before either could speak, Meredith's pager exploded in cacophonous melody, sending her shooting from her seat.

"What is it?" Derek asked, his doctoring instincts peaked. Meredith squinted at the tiny print, and the blood drained from her face.

"It's—it's Sadie."

* * *

**A/N: I don't really have anything to say, at this point. I didn't include much Addison here, but I had some fun with Meredith. As whiny as she can be, she's a pretty interesting character to work with. Hope this was enjoyable, and you'll be inclined to share your response with me and, more importantly, keep reading! More is in the works!**

**PS: the iPod defectiveness in the beginning, unfortunately, is a mirror of life. Anyone who knows some remedy (anything, anything at all, including magical spells) that will revive an iPod from sudden nonresponsiveness and could impart this knowledge to me via e-mail or messaging would be loved forever! Thanks!**


	6. Blame It All Upon

**Chapter Six**

"Hmph…hello?"

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

Addison blinked repeatedly, floating up from unconsciousness blearily.

"Save the crickets."

"Addison! _Wake up_. It's Mark."

"Mark? The crickets…"

"No, Mark. Tall guy, dirty blonde hair, chiseled jaw, devastating, rugged good looks. Ringing any bells, Red?" The last sentence tore through her muddled mind like a flaming arrow.

"Hmmm…you forgot annoyingly arrogant." She returned, rubbing her mouth with the back of her hand. She felt awful. She did a brief scan of the sparse hotel room, noting the lump of discarded luggage and her very expensive coat wadded and dangling dangerously atop them. She was still wearing her black dress, and her hair was knotted quite nastily, she discovered as she wandered her fingers gingerly around her scalp. She finally rolled herself onto her back, and spotted a bottle of Lambrusco on the bedside table. Unopened. Full. God, why then did she feel so awful?

"I knew you were awake." Mark quipped, reminding her of the phone in her hand.

"Momentarily." She replied with a yawn.

"Then I'll make this quick. What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Do you have the next decade free for elaboration?" she returned, her words dripping with self-reproach.

"Well, actually I was referring very specifically to the fact that I was away for less than two weeks, and when I get back, I can't seem to get a hold of you or Derek for a few days, and it isn't until I bump into Weiss and Savvy at Carmine's and Savvy tells me, no, I won't be seeing you and Derek at the Hamptons this weekend, because you're in Seattle. Why Seattle? I ask, dumbfounded and awestruck. Then, Savvy launches into a long explanation that ends with Sadie having heart surgery! So that brings me back to my original question: What the hell is wrong with you and your husband that neither of you called and told me about this?" He had to take an audible breath after he finished, his frustration simmering through the phone lines, burning at her ear. It didn't help the sarcasm that seemed to spring of its own free will from her mouth.

"I thought you said you were going to be quick."

Mark snorted.

"Very funny. Seriously, Addison! Why is my Peanut is having heart surgery?"

With the mention of Mark's nickname for Sadie—not originally a flattering one, either, seeing as it came from when she was born and he arrived in the nursery at the hospital, looked at her, and said, "hey, her head kind of has a Peanut shape to it"—made Addison's eyes fill quickly with tears. It may have started as a joke, but even Mark had to admit, Sadie had cast a spell on him and ever since she was born, she had him wrapped around her tiny fingers. Peanut became her pet name, filled with affection from a man seemingly unable to express it. Which made it all the more heartbreaking now.

"She's sick. Ebstein's Anomaly, advanced." Addison managed, swiping angrily at the tears.

"Jesus. When did it start?" he asked, his distress palpable.

She took a breath in an attempt to steady herself, but it was only marginally effective.

"I don't—I don't even know. It just...it all kind of came on at once." Before she could stifle it with her hand, a sob escaped from her lips.

"What did?" Mark asked, his voice softening when he heard Addison's crying.

"Just…everything." She murmured, her voice muffled by her restricting hand.

"Addie, what's wrong?" Mark inquired, with a kind of softness only ever used when he dealt with Addison or Sadie.

"Oh, nothing—I've just made a mess of everything." She answered glibly, pulling the pillow on Derek's side of the bed closer, and curling her body against it.

"What do you mean? Sadie getting sick isn't your fault!" he insisted, slightly confused.

"No…but I should have noticed." Addison whimpered. "She's my baby, Mark. She was inside of me for nine months. I held her everyday. I bathed her. I played with her. I saw her. I talked to her. I know everything about her, and I never noticed."

"It could have been a fluke. Sometimes if it's mild enough—"

"It was Ebstein's Anomaly, Mark. Ebstein's. For Christ's sake, I treat that at least a dozen cases of that within a year, and I couldn't see it in my own daughter, even though I saw her everyday!" Her misery was overwhelming, flooding the phone line and reaching across the 3,000-mile expanse between them and making Mark choke up. He swallowed hard, and pressed on.

"Addison, you're being irrational. Things like this happen. How often did you perform EKGs on Sadie? How often did you test her oxygen levels? This is _not_ your fault!"

A long moment of silence passed. Mark clutched the phone in his hand, waiting for some sign of life on the other end, and Addison stared blankly into the white expanse of the pillow her face was buried in. Finally, she spoke.

"…I know. I guess I know."

"What else is going on?" Mark asked after a moment, and then added, "Where is Derek?"

With that, new tears came to Addison's eyes, and the only way to stop them was to press her eyes together painfully tight.

"I don't know. I don't know anything anymore."

"Addison." Mark commanded sternly. "Start talking."

"We're getting divorced."

This time, it was Addison who gripped the phone in her hand, listening for a response from the other end.

"Is that a joke?" Mark managed, his voice flat with shock.

"No. It's not." She returned, equally flat.

"What…the hell happened these past two weeks? I only went to L.A…not a parallel universe, right?" He asked, the sarcasm covering a growing sense of fear.

"It's more than just these past few weeks. It's been years in the making." Addison mumbled, annoyed with her own self-pitying whining, but miserable nonetheless.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, as well as I do. I know you're his best friend, too, and you'd never say anything against him, but you know we had our problems."

"Yeah, but Addie…it was never…I mean, I know a lot of people who get divorced. But never, not even in the darkest times, did I ever picture you and Derek doing that."

His voice was stiff, halted nearly. Addison pictured him, slumped back in the chair at his apartment, grinding his fingers against his temples like he often did when stressed.

She shook her head, though he couldn't see it. "It was just a matter of us realizing there was no more helping it."

"What the hell does that mean?" He barked back.

"It's…it's actually ridiculous. Petty. Childish. But it…it showed me that Derek, the Derek I love, doesn't love me. Not like he used to."

Stop crying. She ordered herself inwardly. Didn't work.

"You need to tell me, before I come out there and bump both of your petulantly thick skulls together." Mark threatened, in all seriousness. Addison rolled her eyes, and couldn't believe that the story she was about to rehash was the real catalyst of her current marital disaster.

"I...Derek found this stupid, stupid note that…I got from this intern."

"Okay? Did you…sleep with the intern?"

"No, but you and Derek drew the same conclusions." She answered, hurt.

"Well it just seems weird if you didn't, why this intern is writing you notes apparently so graphic—,"

"It wasn't graphic! It was just…" She felt like an idiot. She had the almost irrepressible impulse to laugh, and then cry. For days. "A few weeks ago…something happened between Derek and I while I was at work. I don't even know what, now. It happens so much. But for some reason, it just got to me. And I needed to be…out of sight. So I ducked into my office, sat behind my desk, and cried my eyes out. It wasn't that he'd done anything so horrific, it was just…I was tired. Tired of being sad. Tired of being so lonely."

"Okay…"

"And this intern, Jamie, he works for me. He's my best intern, really. He'll have to toughen up if he really wants to pursue neonatal, but…anyway, I didn't know but while I was having my little meltdown, he had come in. When I stood up, he was there. And…he kissed me."

"Kissed?"

"Kissed! God, do you really think that little of me?" she exclaimed, shuddering at the thought of anything else happening with Jamie. Even at her weakest moment, the thought of having an affair…she was nearly sick to her stomach.

"No, Addie…I'm sorry." He sighed. "What then?"

"Well, after a minute—a horrible, horrible minute that I let stretch out longer than I should have because I was just so lonely—I pulled away. I just…couldn't. Ever. With anyone. Because it would never be Derek, and he's…he's the only one I ever wanted. So I stopped it. I thought Jamie was going to die of shame, and there was a very awkward week, but eventually we got over it and moved back to normalcy. I don't know when he put the note in my things, but he did, and two days ago, Derek found it."

"And he assumed…the worse."

"He did. And I…I don't know why, really. But that wasn't even it. He assumed the worst, and he still just…didn't care. He _laughed_."

"Laughed?"

"Yes. He even told me I could keep doing it, as long as I was careful."

"Jesus Christ." Mark shook his head, wishing his best friend had been there at that moment so he could smack some sense into him.

"Mark, you have to understand…that's why. I…I knew then, in that space of a moment, that he truly didn't care anymore."

"Addison, listen!"

"No, Mark—,"

"Damn it, Addison, LISTEN TO ME FOR ONCE."

The unexpected vocal violence silenced her, making her feel even more idiotic. After a few moments of silence, assuring him she was listening, Mark spoke.

"Okay. You need to realize something. You've been married to Derek for like, a century. You know him, everything about him…but you know him as a woman, with all your touchy, soft, girlie feelings. I, on the other hand, devoid of such feelings—,"

"As well as general sensitivity."

"—know him as a man. And as a man I know, especially where you're concerned, Derek is not indifferent. He's fucked up, but never, ever indifferent to you. It sounds cliché, but he was never like he is with you with any other woman, and I know he never will be again, either. You just…do something to him. You add something to him, you take something away, I don't know. But you're all he thinks about. Since the day he—we—met you, it's only been you for him. And I'm pretty sure he can't be Derek without you, not anymore. So, knowing that as I do, I know divorce wasn't his idea."

"No. It wasn't." she only now realized how much she didn't want it.

"Exactly. How can you accuse a guy of not caring when he still wants to work it out?"

"Because, Mark," she snapped, bitterness and despair creeping back up into her voice. "He'll stay married to me, but nothing will change! Maybe for a while, maybe, but eventually it will just…happen all over again. I can't do that, not again. I can't."

"You really think it will happen again, even though now you'll be aware of the problems, and be able to stop them before they escalate as they have? Are you really that cynical, Addison?"

"I…I don't…No." she pressed her hand to her forehead, her fingertips turning white from the pressure.

"Then you can't sign any god damned papers unless you're sure." Mark told her evenly.

"I'm not exactly standing with pen poised!" she snapped back.

"Good. Don't. At least, for now. You can't base your marriage on my say-so—as ingenious and brilliant as it may be—but you don't want to do anything now you'll regret later. Let this whole thing with Sadie get resolved. Come back to New York. This…this will work out. Because not only do I know Derek and how much he loves you, but also I know you, too, Addie. And you love him, even when he doesn't exactly deserve it."

She listened to him breathing softly on the other end of the line, and to the even drumming of the rain on the hotel window.

"Mark?"

"What?"

"When did you become the rational one in our little triangle?"

He laughed.

"Around the time you went and got all pregnant and crazy, and Derek painted the nicest room in his former bachelor pad pink."

"Ass. I can't wait until you have children." She replied, smiling.

"Why would I put myself through that when I have Peanut to enjoy without having to pay for her college or yell at her when she runs circles around the two of you in a few years?" He teased.

Addison smiled, but added wistfully, "I just hope she makes it that far. I'd love to have a teenager driving me nuts, as long as it meant I had her."

"You will. And she will. And I'm going to remind you of that statement when she does." Mark assured her, still teasing but with an underlying assurance she clung to.

Just then, a mechanical tinkering sounded in her ear, signaling another incoming call.

Derek was spelled out in small black font on the screen of her Blackberry.

"Oh, Mark, I'm getting a call and it's Derek. I should go."

"Okay, but do I need to fly out?"

"No, no, not yet. I'll call you tomorrow with an update, Captain."

"In the meanwhile I'll send a care package. Chocolate covered marshmallows for Peanut, a pound of Seattle's Best for you, and some Balvenie for Derek."

She snorted.

"Okay, I'm going now. Good-bye, Mark."

"…Good-bye, Addie."

And his voice was gone, replaced by ragged breathing belonging to her husband.

"Derek?" she asked, bolting straight up in the bed.

"Dr. Shepherd? This is Meredith Grey."

Alarmed, she sat straight up.

"Where is my husband?"

"He's…we're at Seattle Grace."

* * *

It had been like a dream. A nightmare, really.

Even though they had sprinted across the street to the hospital, dodging traffic blindly, it had still felt like his feet weighed two thousand pounds. He tried to keep pace with Meredith, but she seemed to float ahead of him, even when he thought he was right in stride with her. He had only had two glasses of scotch, but he was beginning to realize that atop an empty stomach, that was akin to about five.

He didn't remember actually entering the hospital, or the fevered dash up the catwalk, Meredith's thin legs pumping ahead of him.

He didn't remember almost plowing over Richard Webber.

He didn't remember misjudging a corner and effectively dislocating his shoulder on impact.

The next thing he remembered was seeing the crash cart being shoved into Sadie's room, and the earth tilted beneath his feet.

The next thing he knew, Richard was restraining him outside the door, and he could only watch as some young doctor shocked…Sadie. His daughter. His and Addison's daughter. His mouth and throat seemed to close up. All he could do to keep from losing it was to watch the heart monitor. He couldn't look at his daughter's ashen face, or at her tiny body as it jerked in reaction to the defibrillator. He couldn't.

His world became the pencil-thin green line on the heart monitor that seemed endlessly and unforgivingly flat.

But it did make one tiny jump, in an instant that brought him such an onslaught of joy, he collapsed into Richard Webber's arms.

"Dr. Shepherd!"

_Headache_.

"Dr. Shepherd! Can you hear me?"

_Oh, bigger shoulder ache._

"Derek!"

_Okay, okay, I'm awake._

He opened his eyes, and looked directly into the wide, frightened hazel eyes of Meredith Grey. She still had her rumpled corduroy jacket and wildly striped scarf on, but now a stethoscope hung from her ears and was making chilly little imprints on his chest.

"Sadie?" he managed, his mouth dry and furry, his vision fading in and out. Meredith visibly relaxed, and leaned closer.

"She's in emergency surgery. Her tricuspid valve burst."

_Oh, no._

He sat straight up, ignoring the scorching agony that shot from his shoulder with fiery vengeance to his fingertips. Meredith's tiny little hands held onto his arms, minding his injury but still managing to restrain him.

"Wait, you need a minute! You passed out!" she instructed him.

"I need to…I need to…" his eyes widened in alarm when he saw the sling.

"You need to relax! You can't do any more for Sadie right now. Dr. Burke is operating on her, and it's going to be a while. I already called your wife, she's on her way."

As if on cue, Addison appeared in the doorway.

"My God, Derek!" she covered the space between them in three leggy strides, enveloping his good left shoulder and side in a tight hug. He pressed his face into her embrace, and realized she was shaking. He attempted to complete the embrace by bringing his right arm around her, but the pain made that impossible, and she whispered, "Don't," against his ear when he tried.

"Addison…she…"

"I know. Richard. Told me." She managed, tears spilling down her cheeks into his hair, glistening against the dark mat of it. Meredith stared miserably at the couple, her stomach twisting with fear. As a doctor, she knew the probability of Sadie coming out of this surgery alive. As a…friend, she supposed, that knowledge crushed her. And she knew in that moment, looking at Derek and Addison, that they knew, too.

Just then, Richard Webber walked in.

"Derek, Addie…" he put a hand on Addison's shoulder, and she broke the embrace she had on Derek. He looked up at Richard, too, after he looped his arm protectively around Addison's waist.

"What's…what's going on?" Addison managed, pressing her fingers around her eyes.

"It…doesn't look good. I was just in with Preston. There's a lot of damage—,"

"Richard," Derek interrupted, "You have to say she'll be all right. You have to."

Every person in that room knew what an unfair request that was, but they all wished the exact same thing.

Richard took a heavy, painful sigh.

"Preston is working hard and fast. It'll be a few hours, but…he's working." He turned from their attention, and focused on Meredith.

"Grey, scrub in."

She did, and as she was pulling the gloves over her hand, for the first time in her career, she found herself shaking ever so slightly.

* * *

Now, Meredith stood with her back against the cool tile of the wall, her body vaguely tingling and prickly from the intensity adrenaline rush. But all those sensations were a distant, faraway fact. She concentrated on keeping her breathing even, and constant. It wasn't easy with her heart running a marathon on her breastbone, but she focused her entire being upon the task.

She still wore the slightly soiled scrubs, and her hair had slipped from its band, thusly plastering itself to the sides her face with sweat. She hadn't noticed when it happened, and didn't notice then, either.

_Dr. Burke, we have a bleeder._

_I see it, Grey. Get me a clamp._

But there was so much blood.

_B.P. is dropping, doctor._

_I know, I know, I know…Grey, clamp that!_

She did, but the blood had filled her palm in a warm, steady surge.

_Doctor, we're losing her!_

_No we're not!_

But Burke and Meredith already had two clamps in, and there was already another free-flowing surge of blood.

_We have a flat line._

_No, no, no…Grey, place your forefinger into the tear. We have to stop the bleeding._

She had, and for a few sweet seconds, the gush of blood ceded.

_Good, good. Now, I need another clamp…_

But before the last word was out of his mouth, Meredith felt the tender tissue around her finger give and a flood of hot, thickness surrounded her hand.

Sadie Shepherd had died.

Sadie Shepherd had died while Meredith had literally held her heart in her hand.

"Meredith?"

She closed her eyes, tears spilling out finally. She answered Addison without moving.

"She's in there."

In a whoosh of motion, both of the Shepherds entered the intensive care unit and descended delicately upon their daughter.

After a few moments, Meredith brought herself to look into the room from the doorway.

She only watched, awash in overwhelming relief, as Sadie Shepherd's chest moved rhythmically up and down, breathing and living.

Not so long ago, she hadn't been breathing or living.

For a terrifying thirty-four seconds, Sadie Shepherd had been dead.

When she saw the Shepherds wearily look back at her, she was brought back to reality. The reality that she was wearing scrubs with their daughter's blood on them.

She attempted to shuffle away, but when she made the move to, both of them informed her nonverbally with their eyes that she was more than welcome to stay.

She did, but only for a moment.

She went into the locker room, immersed herself in a stinging, scalding shower, and then changed into a fresh pair of scrubs.

Before her five am rounds, she placed a phone call.

"Meadow Crest Retirement Village."

"Hello, I'm calling for Ellis Grey."

"I'm sorry, she's still asleep. Can I ask who's calling?"

"It's Meredith, her daughter."

"Oh, I'm sorry Dr. Grey! I didn't recognize your voice. Would you like to leave a message for her?"

"Yes. Could you please tell her…tell her I'll call her back after my rounds."

"Of course. She'll understand."

Meredith was about to agree with an ironic smirk and disconnect, but she caught herself.

"You know what? Don't tell her that, that thing about my rounds. Tell her...tell her I'll be there for lunch."

* * *

"Do you remember the day she was born?" Derek quietly asked Addison as they sat next to each other in the painfully uncomfortable chairs of intensive care unit, watching their sleeping daughter as if at any moment she would awake.

Addison lolled her head towards him and raised a disbelieving eyebrow, and he smiled and added, "Okay, stupid question."

"What about it?" she asked anyway, lolling her head back to its original position, staring at Sadie as she slept.

"I was in surgery." He observed.

"I remember."

"I'm sorry."

She turned to him again. "Derek, you don't have to…"

"I know. I'm not doing it to make it up to you. I'm just saying, in this moment, I feel sorry I wasn't there in the beginning. For you." He didn't look at her, just kept staring ahead.

"I am, too." She whispered.

The clock on the wall denoted the following minutes that passed with quiet ticks.

"Do you remember the day I told you?" Addison posed, smiling at his reaction, adding, "Another stupid question, I guess."

He watched her, smiling, and asked, "What about it?"

"I was…terrified. Like I never had been before. We had never…we weren't prepared. At all. I was terrified you would be unhappy. Mostly, I was terrified because I was so happy and I wanted you to be, too. I never thought I would be that happy, but I was. And for some reason, I thought you wouldn't be." She shook her head. "But when I finally blurted it out—,"

"On the main floor of the surgical wing at Mount Sinai during a hormonal meltdown." He supplied helpfully, with another teasing grin.

"—the look on your face…I had never been happier. Not just because you were so happy. It was because you looked so sure. In that moment, that tiny moment right after the last words left my mouth and you just looked at me and said, "Oh, Addie," all dreamily…I thought we could do anything. As long we were us. Derek and Addie." She met his eyes, both of their easy smiles slipping and getting replaced with a long, meaningful stare.

"Thought?" he whispered, "Or still think?"

* * *

**A/N: Mean way to end the longest chapter yet, huh? I know, but I needed at least one more chapter, so I couldn't end it here. You understand, right? Of course. I knew you would.**

**Anyway, thanks to all who have reviewed so far, and especially for the iPod advice. Looks, however, like it will be in the hands of the Apple Geek Squad in California.**

**So that's it. Keep the feedback coming, and yes, there is STILL more to come!**


	7. A Rush of Blood to the Head

**Chapter Seven**

He liked her like this.

When he'd gotten out of the shower, she was curled in a lax fetal position, fully dressed including her insane shoes, clinging to a pillow that completely shielded her face from the early morning sunlight, which in turn tangled and wove itself into her hair, exposing shoots of otherwise hidden copper and auburn amongst the rich merlot strands.

He watched for a moment, musing at how love makes you able to watch a person do absolutely nothing and still find yourself completely, utterly enthralled.

After finishing the drying job on his body—not easy with one arm considerably tight from the recent injury—he tossed the towel into the makeshift hamper, pulled on a pair of sweats that he didn't remember packing, and made his way to her side of the bed.

From that angle, her eyes were visible. Scrunched up against the pillow, they were sweetly sealed shut, looking heavy and accented by dark smudges below them. Mascara and tears, he realized on closer inspection. He reached to brush it away with his thumb, but he only got one good brush in before she wrinkled her nose in annoyance without opening her eyes and weakly swatted at his hand with a distracted moan.

He smiled, and moved to the bottom of the bed and placed a hand on the heel of her shoe, easing it off slowly. He did so while watching her carefully, afraid in this primitive state of sleep she might react instinctually in defense of her beloved shoes and kick him for touching the leather without gloves. Fortunately, she was out cold again, her lips parted ever so slightly, her old "tell" for when she was deeply sleeping.

He got both malformed contraptions from her feet without incident, and thought for a few dangerous moments about the stockings he knew came to a screeching halt around her mid-thigh, but decided against it. He didn't trust himself in this depleted state of exhaustion.

Instead, he slid carefully into bed behind her, laying his head on the neighboring pillow and positioning his hurt arm to the greatest comfort. He didn't touch her, just watched her breathe and sleep, respecting her space. At first. When he himself began to drift, instinct kicked in and he moved closer, running a light hand down her side, resting it on her hip. Moments later he realized what he did and went to retract his hand, but she had already murmured another sleepy sigh, rolled over, and fitted herself against him in one smooth, easy motion.

He closed his eyes, relishing in the earliest memories of their relationship when this was how they would fall asleep. They hadn't so much as laid in this position in years, but apparently the fugue of sleep had dulled Addison's memory of being mad at him, of the years of neglect, of the denial, and of the unanswered divorce question. It gave him a strange kind of hope. Deep down at the core, when all of her defenses were literally asleep, Addison still seemed to love him.

He smiled, and pressed his lips to her forehead, which was a movement requiring little effort because her face was inches from his. As soon as he pulled away, her eyes fluttered open, and he saw her smile warmly, with a vulnerability and softness that only lasted a second. Then, her face registered where she was, whom she was with, and what she was doing. She didn't move away or even frown, but under his hand he felt her stiffen.

"It's okay, Addie." He murmured, drawing her a little closer. She blinked, waking up more completely, and stiffening even more.

"No, Derek." She protested weakly. He tightened his grip.

"Don't. Don't shut me out like this. Please." He shook his head, and stopped her from further protests by blotting her words out with his mouth. She was hesitant to respond, at first, but it didn't take long before she returned the gesture, their mouths pressing and kneading heatedly in a familiar fashion. He let this last a good while, relishing in the revived intimacy, but soon found himself winding his hand into her hair and locking her head against his, deepening the kiss. The parts of her that had previously been pliable and soft turned rigid again, and she pulled away.

"No, Derek." She rasped, pressing her lips together.

"Why, Addison?" he asked in frustration, pulling away slightly, just enough to rest his forehead against hers and stare into her eyes.

"Because, it's more than this. We can't just screw the pain away."

"I'm not trying to." He assured her soulfully, catching her chin between his thumb and forefinger when she tried to look away. "I love you, Addison. It just so happens that I want you very much, too."

She expelled a sigh and closed her eyes.

"I know it's been…a while. But it neither of those things stopped being true. Not really." He said, a whisper from her mouth.

Her chin quivered, but she kept her eyes shut.

"The only thing left to question," He began carefully, hopefully, "Is whether or not you still love me."

She opened her eyes with a start, as if to stop him from speaking.

"I do…I do…I do…" she repeated, kissing him hard between each utterance. "God, Derek, I do and I did and I will."

For the second time that day, a hot wave of relief washed over him.

"Then that's it. We'll…work this out." He decided quietly. She gasped a tiny sob, and he ran his palm feather-like down her cheek. "We're Derek and Addie. We're _still _Derek and Addie."

Tears fell, and she sobbed softly again, but she smiled and nodded. At first it was a gentle motion of her head, but then it became emphatic, and she quickly slid her hands up the sides of his face and brought his mouth against hers.

He allowed the control to be hers losing himself in the passion of her gestures, but when she tugged at him meaningfully on his sides with her probing, exploring hands, an unspoken signal between them from years before, he shifted over her, pressing her into the bed, but broke the contact between their mouths.

"Are you sure?" he managed, surprised at his own self-control as he braced himself above her on his sore arms. She blinked, her eyes cloudy and dark and her mouth reddened from the pressure of his, and stared at him for a long second.

"Yes."

It didn't have to be said aloud that her answer was meant in more ways than one.

* * *

"The Fray?"

"Check. Plain White Ts?"

"Yup. The Devics?"

"Check. The Postal Service?"

"Uh huh. How about Damien Rice?"

"Of course!"

"Just making sure, you never know with you kids these days."

"Please! I'm not the one with Hilary Duff, not-so-well disguised under a different name."

"How did you find out!"

"It's on your Top 25 playlist."

"Oh. Right. Well, you don't even try to hide your Eiffel 65."

"Can't say that "Blue" isn't an amazing song!"

"Please. Your only saving grace is the ample supply of The Beatles."

"What about Snow Patrol? I've got all of their stuff."

"They help, too. I just hate that television stole them."

"I know. Now _everybody_ likes them."

"Ahem?"

Meredith and Sadie spun their heads quickly mid-laughter as they sat on Sadie's bed, and acknowledged the presence of Addison and Derek with nods.

"Oh, hello, Addison. Hi, Derek." Meredith greeted, tucking her iPod into her pocket.

"Hey, Meredith." Addison greeted easily, with a smile.

"Hi, Meredith." Derek also greeted, and they both entered the room.

"Hi Mom, Hi Dad." Sadie greeted, practically bouncing. She got up on her haunches on the bed to say happily, "Meredith and I were comparing our libraries, since she finally got her iPod fixed."

Addison stood in front her, adjusting her new pink top and smoothing it down over her jeans. She then tucked the girl's substantially longer hair behind her ear, and replied, "Ooh. Does she have any Coldplay?"

"Please, Mom, it was the first thing I asked!" Sadie said with a snort and a smile at Meredith.

"Well, then I suppose she's allowed to keep her medical degree." Addison decided, taking Sadie in an embrace and winking at Meredith, who feigned relief saying, "Gee, thanks."

"So, honey, are you ready to go?" Derek asked, though enjoying the women's interaction.

"Yeah…I guess." Sadie replied, thumbing her sweater and peering at Meredith.

"What do you mean, you guess?" Meredith asked incredulously. "You need to get back to New York and keep the East Coast up on the good music and movies. I'll hold down the fort out here."

A smile crept across Sadie's face.

"…okay. I will. I have been gone a whole three months. Paris Hilton might have made another single." She said with a grave shake of her head. The adults in the room laughed heartily.

"Okay, let's go." Derek resigned, picking Sadie up and situating her in her new wheelchair. "There we go."

"Daddy, would you let Mom push me?" She asked sweetly.

"Sure…why?" Derek asked with a raised brow.

"Well…you do it really slow. I know Dr. Burke just got done saying I should take it easy, but jeez, Dad, I'm not made of _glass_!" she said with an exasperated sigh. Derek blinked, bewildered, and Addison leaned to Meredith.

"It's going to be interesting when she's eighteen instead of eight." She muttered. "Here, I'll take over."

When they reached the elevators, Meredith bent down to Sadie's eye level.

"Good-bye, Sadie." She held out a hand, but Sadie wrapped her arms around her neck.

"Good-bye, Meredith." She said into her ear.

In that moment, Meredith's eyes stung with tears. When Sadie broke the embrace, she blinked back those tears to face Addison and Derek.

"Thank you, Dr. Grey." Addison said, taking her hand in a womanly grasp.

"Yes. Thank you…so much." Derek said, choked up slightly.

"It was a pleasure." Was all Meredith could think to say, because it was true.

The elevator arrived, and Addison proceeded to edge the wheelchair inside. Derek put his hand over the door to hold it for her, but turned to Meredith.

"About that…thing. Your story?" he said softly.

"Yeah?" she asked, curious as to why he brought it up after three months of not doing so.

He took a deep breath, trying to decide the right words. Finally, he managed,

"Life has a funny way of making up for the bad parts…by giving us a better last couple of chapters." He tilted his head to the side. "Eventually. You have to get that far. Sometimes, you have to take matters into your own hands."

"Seriously?"

"Seriously."

"Good to know."

She watched them go, and sighed heavily. She hoped…well, she hoped, in that moment, for a lot of things.

"It won't be as satisfying around here anymore, with him gone." Izzie observed from behind Meredith.

"Seriously? He was the only _satisfaction_ you've been getting for the past few months?"

"_No_…but he sure as hell didn't hurt."

Meredith rolled her eyes. "You're hopeless."

"No, you are. You haven't gone to Joe's, or anywhere else, in weeks."

Meredith shrugged noncommittally.

"Well," Izzie persisted, "You have to come tonight. Now. You're off, aren't you?"

"Can't." Meredith called over her shoulder, walking away. "I've got a date. Sort of."

She hoped Izzie didn't follow her and bombard her with questions, and she didn't.

Meredith managed to make it all the way to the locker room undetected, and changed into her carefully chosen outfit, then taking even more care applying her make-up.

She muttered to herself occasionally, wondering what she thought she was doing, but Derek's words seemed to win out over the doubt.

When she emerged from the hospital almost a half hour later, her stomach was uneasy with an intense case of the butterflies, and her eyes were teary with nerves as she scanned the crowd out front on the walkway hurriedly.

Then, she saw him. Her date. Sorta.

He was nervous, too. He was shifting his weight from foot to foot, chewing his lip, and his hands were bunched in either of his khaki pockets. He had a dark brown tweed blazer on, very much the academic look, and his hair was damp from the moisture outside and curling at its short ends. He looked different, but somehow the same. He was older, of course, but his eyes were the same. That was how she recognized him.

"Hi, Dad."

* * *

"You may put your trays back into their unfolded position and resume use of electronic devices. We are now at six thousand feet and climbing. Welcome to Delta Air New York."

Addison fiddled with her mocha.

She ventured a glance as Sadie, absorbed in her iPod. She found herself watching Sadie more, these days, sometimes just to make sure she was still there. It had been so close...She quickly averted her eyes back to the whipped cream and syrupy swirls on her coffee.

New York. In a few hours, they would be home. Back on the same streets, in the same jobs, in the same house, in the same bed as…before. She hadn't said anything to Derek, but in the past week, she had grown increasingly more and more nervous.

Life in Seattle as Sadie recovered had been surreal, nearly dreamlike. They had each contributed some to the hospital, transferring their privileges temporarily from New York, but not very much. They focused almost all of their attention on Sadie's recovery, which progressed with amazing speed.

And maybe it was the isolation from their normal social activities, the lack of pressing medical work, or just the nice hotel room, but they had become the Derek and Addie of before, and better, in some ways.

They held hands in elevators.

He played with her hair when she fell asleep with her head on his chest.

She wore his shirts when she was hanging around in the hotel, and his socks when her feet got cold.

They finished each others' sentences.

He stared at her when he thought she wasn't looking.

She lightly traced circles with her fingernails on his back as he drifted to sleep after they made love.

They had kissed with shameless excess on the Space Needle, not even noticing the stares of disapproving—and jealous—onlookers.

He would let her have the extra blanket on the cooler nights.

She would let him snuggle particularly close on those nights, to share the heat.

They played stupid pranks on each other, like his "accidental" spraying of her face with whipped cream and her revenge—painting his toenails red when he fell asleep.

He helped her get the knots in her hair out of the places she couldn't reach.

She massaged his shoulders whenever he was tense—even if he didn't ask.

And every night, just after the lights would go out and sleep would begin to pull its cooling veil over them, they never fell asleep without some kind of contact with the other, whether it be a full embrace or simply linked hands.

But that was Seattle.

Now they were going back to New York, where just the act of spending the night in the same bed had one time been remarkable.

She couldn't deny she was nervous—or outright frightened—that the contentedness and comfort of Seattle wouldn't translate into New York.

She chewed her lip, and drummed her fingers. She stared down at them, freshly buffed and polished. She focused all of her mind on them. She watched them continue, seemingly independent of her body, to rap and thump on the plastic tray until a bigger, masculine hand steadied them.

She looked slowly at Derek, who had been watching her. And, as a result of their rekindled and improved unspoken understanding of each other, he knew.

She only watched his eyes, feeling her face flush with shame for doubting.

For a long moment, they simply locked eyes.

Then, he smiled his heartbreaking half-smile, titled his head.

"Oh, Addie."

Her face stretched into a grin.

"Of Addie and Derek."

* * *

**A/N: This chapter was much fun. I got to indulge in some Derek/Addison fluff, which is just _great_ fun for me. And I guess this is done. I'm really sad to see it end, but it's just gotta.**

**Just because it's over, though, doesn't mean you shouldn't tell me what you thought! I'm always up to hear your opinions: good, bad, and ugly.**

**I owe an enormous, deeply appreciative thanks to _everyone_ who read this, and also those who gave me criticism, praise, and just general feedback. It made me ever so indescribably happy. 3**

**Also, a thanks to those who stuck with this fic, even though you weren't necessarily "Addek" fans. I really appreciate that, and I'm sorry I didn't cater to your respective "ships." Maybe next time? ;)**

**xo Bleu **


End file.
